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#I know it's not my responsibility to help everyone but
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you keep his shirt, he keeps his word
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The strong aroma of coffee woke you up that morning. It confused you because you were absolutely sure that your coffee maker was still in a box somewhere. Opening your eyes, it only took you a matter of five seconds to realize that you weren’t in your new apartment.
You were in Carmen Berzatto’s bed.
What started off as a night where you were meeting your best friend’s work friends ended up with you in the bed of one of them.
You never did this kind of thing. You never met a guy at a bar and went back to his place.
There was just something about Carmen.
When Sydney first introduced you to him in that small bar near The Bear, you literally fell in love with his eyes. They were this beautiful shade of blue. You instantly got jealous of him because of them. How ordinary your eyes were compared to his.
You wanted to stay far away from him, scared that you’d do or say something stupid. He eventually made his way back towards you and the rest was history.
Sydney gave you a rundown before you met everyone. She informed you that Carmen was shy as hell and often kept to himself. She also said to not be offended if he did so.
It surprised you when he made his way towards you and struck a conversation. It started off a little slow but there was this unspoken connection that blossomed.
He was shy in a totally adorable way and super charming. Sydney and everyone else that worked with him on a near daily basis was shocked at how he was acting. They didn’t dare think that he’d be the guy to approach a woman and have an actual conversation.
You sat with him in the little corner of the bar and talked about everything. He wanted to know what made you move to Chicago. How you knew Sydney. What your favorite food was.
His last question surprised you, “Would you like to go back to my place?”
Your response surprised you the most, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Fast forward to eight hours later and you were still tangled up in his sheets. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You quickly found your phone, purse, jeans and undergarments. The shirt you wore last night was nowhere to be found.
You grabbed the first white shirt that you saw and slipped your clothes back on.
This was all new territory to you. You had no idea what you should do. Thank him for a great evening? Give him a high five? Run out without saying anything?
The door to his bedroom was cracked open. You heard the soft sounds of the radio playing.
As quietly as you could, you walked down the hallway and made your way to the main living area. You spotted Carmen in his kitchen. Shirtless.
He was at the stove. The sizzling of the pan and the smell made your stomach growl. Carmen turned to grab a plate when he saw you standing in the doorway.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He asked you.
You nodded, “Uh, yeah I did surprisingly.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m one of those people that has a hard time falling asleep if it isn’t in my own bed.”
“I’m glad that you were comfortable enough here to where that wasn’t a problem.” He made his way towards you and tugged on your- his shirt, “Looks good on you.”
You looked down and he still had a grip on you, “I normally don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Have one night stands. Going back to a guy’s apartment after barely meeting him isn’t really my thing.” You confessed. Part of you hoped he believed you. The other part didn’t want to be ashamed if it was something that you normally did.
One night stands weren’t something to be embarrassed about. You were a single woman who could date/hook up with anyone she wanted.
“Was this just a one night kinda thing to you?” Carmen asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think?”
You wanted him to answer before you could. It was killing you inside to figure out what he was thinking.
“I think that last night, I met a woman that I would really like to get to know better.”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Really?”
He nodded and grinned, “Yes, really. Plus, you look great in my clothes and out of them.”
“Well that was a smooth line if I ever heard one.”
“There’s plenty more of that if you stick around with me,” Carmen leaned closer and placed a sweet kiss on your lips, “I made you breakfast.”
“You’re going to spoil me, Berzatto.” You set your purse down before taking a seat at his counter. He served you a delicious looking omelette with a cup of coffee.
“I plan to do so as long as you’ll let me. I’m a man of my word.”
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empress-simps · 3 days
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Line That Leads To You
Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.
Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!
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You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.
The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.
Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.
“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.
“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.
“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)
“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.
Complete each other, huh?
Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.
Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.
That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.
Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.
He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.
“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”
“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.
Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.
You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.
“Reggie! Reggie!”
You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.
Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?
You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.
You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.
Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?
The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.
It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.
Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.
“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.
“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.
“What, Moons?”
“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?
“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.
“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.
Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”
Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”
Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”
James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”
“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.
The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.
Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.
Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”
“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.
“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.
You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.
Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”
And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.
Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.
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ajortga · 2 days
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for i can't help falling in love with you
pairing: vada cavell x fem reader
summary: not only are you new and in almost all of vada's classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. she starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, she's feeling something she knows that you shouldn't feel for a friend.
word count: 10.1k+
a/n: this is the longest fic i've ever written, this is fluffy and sweet, spent way too long on it but nonetheless, not regretful!
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based off a request! this is for my vada <3ers
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R transfers, V sees her almost all the time and eventually starts falling for R, V then embarrassingly asks R out for dinner! Just plainly puppy love, literally not much but I find these types of tropes sooo comforting, u can change some up a bit!!
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It’s loud, bustling, chaotic every single day in the cafeteria.
As soon as the bell rings around the hallways and into the classrooms for lunch break, everyone slams into each other and sprints to the front of the lunch line. Vada even remembers while she walked with Nick some boy tripped in thin air and fell to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. That was until Nick and her found out he had to get stitches to repair his nose. 
She laughed even harder, she couldn’t help it.
Vada slurped her slushy as she kicked her feet, talking with Nick who was drinking an iced latte.
“In a sense, slurpees are better than coffee. You don’t have to immediately shit diarrhea as soon as you plop on the toilet.”
He agrees, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but who would want slushies every day? They stain your mouth.”
“Well would you rather have a temporary colorful tongue that can be seen as cool, or stay in the bathroom while crying for help?”
It seems like as soon as she said it, Nick gagged as he held his stomach.
“You have 30 seconds before you're going to shit your pants,” she states, looking at him up and down. He wasn’t moving.
“Nick, go!” Vada yelled as she choked on a small giggle, watching Nick run to the bathroom holding his pants up to his sides.
As the baggy clothed brunette watched her best friend race to the bathroom, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. Vada slurped on her red slushy. 
She was waiting for Nick until she noticed someone with a jacket wrapped around a tank top with her headphones on and book in one hand. You. She’s never seen you before and it was almost certain she’s seen everyone at least once before to know their name. She was bored, so she just watched.
You were folding a gum wrapper into a heart while you followed Mia into the girls restroom. Mia was always the one to give student tours when she could. You must’ve been new. But then you came back out without your jacket, holding it in the other hand as she saw Mia’s slushie spilled all over your jacket. She could almost hear how she was apologizing over and over again and you smiled it off, showing her how it was okay and you could clean up when you got home. 
Then she took you back to her friend group, seeing the way your hair went side to side as you walked. Before she could watch you even more, Nick called out her name.
“I just took the biggest shit of my li- what are you looking at?”
She hears him but doesn’t turn his way,still looking a little, “Just someone who I think is new. Mia is giving her a tour.”
Nick said a small “ohhh..” in response, “Well what’s so exciting about that?”
“Mia accidentally spilled the slushie we bought this morning on her jacket by accident.”
“That’s so not cool, she must be cold having to take that off, was she mad?”
“No, she just brushed it off, smiled in a somewhat assuring way, and gave Mia the gum wrapper she folded before Mia took her back to her friend group.”
“Ooh. She’s patient then.”
“Yeah.”
-
After lunch passed, Vada realized you were in almost all her periods, well only the ones she attended. Sometimes she was late from Amelia hogging the bus. You kept to yourself, gave shy smiles as the teachers introduced you.
But as the next day rose she was back at school again.
Her favorite class was her film class, it was like a free period and she got to touch cameras and watch movies at least twice a week.
She sits in the corner of the room, she likes the way she can look out the window and see the sight of the sky while also seeing her own reflection.
FIlm class is oddly comforting, music always plays before the period begins. She places her phone on top of her desk.
So for the third time that day, she sees you walk through, with your backpack hung over one shoulder and the other with a book. She wants to feel surprised, almost strange how you end up in her class, but instead she almost feels a sense of gratefulness. 
She doesn’t want to stare. But her eyes betray her, because in one second her eyes are on you. New students weren’t regular, well in her core classes, sure. But film? Almost never. She watches the way you wait by the teacher’s desk, waiting, unsure, not knowing if you should tap her shoulder or just wait until she notices you. Usually, Vada and Mia would sit together, but sometimes on bad days, they would have to move from talking and laughing too much. So they stuck to sitting diagonally and passing notes in the back of the classroom. Finally, the teacher notices you and the smile she gives you is almost too happy as she rubs your shoulder and stands up.
“Alright everyone,” she quiets down her music, “..usually during film I’d let the music keep rolling, but just for today I’d like you to greet our new student who just transferred here. Her name is Y/N.”
People around the class say awkward hi’s, random waves, some of the girls stare at you and awe, and even some of the well-known guys look at you, eyebrows raised and Vada can almost feel their want for you. 
It makes her roll her eyes in disgust.
You do an awkward wave, wanting to shrink into the floor, a smile tugged at your lips.
“Okay sweetheart, there aren’t many options for seating since this class is more compacted than my others. But you can sit next to Vada.” Ms. Valentina points at Vada, “She’s the one in the very back, the open seat behind Mia.” 
Your eyes almost light up when you notice Mia’s in your class, giving a small nod and trying to squish into the back. 
Mia waves at you, shaking your shoulders to show her excitement as you sit down. Vada can almost smell the sweetness of your shampoo when you sit. It smells like ripe strawberries with the fulfilling scent of roasted marshmallows. She wants to sniff your hair, but you’re already pulling out your notebook from your backpack.
“Hey girl!” Mia whispers, turning around to face you as you smile.
“Hey slurpee stainer,” you joke, your voice is soft, airy, melodic. Not like anything Vada’s ever heard. Sure she’s heard many voices, but yours sounded like a lullaby to shush a baby to sleep if you wanted to.
Mia giggles, slapping your arm, “I said I’m sorryyyy. I’d say I’d take you shopping on the weekends! Don’t use that against me,” she scolds, and that makes you laugh, you cup your mouth to contain the giggles and Vada can hear an adorable squeak come out from it.
“I know, don’t be sorry, I was just joking, I’ll just wash it when I get home,” you whisper.
Before you two could talk again the teacher spoke, “Okay guys, it was a long day yesterday and I was planning on printing out some papers for assignments two days prior, but our school printer broke and the ink on mine is hanging on for dear life.” She pauses, everyone didn’t know where she was going with this, “So I’m just going to roll a movie, you guys can choose but I really don’t have much. You can talk, keep it low and hey, if you’re sitting around Y/N, lighten up the mood and get to know her.”
There were random okays and suggestions. As Ms. Valentina kept reading aloud the names, it was almost certain that Shrek was going to be chosen. For the third time this month. Until she spoke out a new suggestion, and everyone chose La La Land instead.
As she played the movie off the projector, Mia scooted to you.
“Okay, so no pressure, buttt my dad's gone today and I know you said you didn’t have homework. If you don’t want to, it's completely understandable, but me and Vada,” she gestures to the brunette sitting next to you, with her hands clasped together and looking at you with interest, “We sometimes go on pool runs or just drive to the nearest seven eleven. Honestly, it’s whatever. But if you wanna hang, I can give you a ride back home, let you drop off your stuff, and we can get to know each other more at mine. What are you thinking?”
Your lips tug into a thoughtful grin, telling Mia she doesn’t have to because she accidentally spilled her drink on you. But Vada kept staring at you. The blonde glanced at her, she saw her basically staring at your side profile, then back at you before giving her a light leg nudge that you didn’t notice. 
“No no! Don’t feel pressured, just know that” Mia breathes and pats your forearm reassuringly, “..that I think we should hang out more, kay? You don’t know how many people don’t get mad when someone spills something on them. At least you’re someone who's patient as hell.” She makes you laugh as you think again.
“Okay, I’d love that,” you respond, simply. 
“Then it’s set! Just meet us at that broccoli lookin’ tree, kay?”
-
As soon as the bell roars and everyone starts opening the gates like it’s the ones they’ll see in heaven, you squish into the crowd of people and look for this broccoli looking tree Mia was referring to. It didn’t take you long.
The only broccoli looking tree was the only tree that was stranded from all the poofy and leafy looking trees, and you could see her with the other brunette that you sat next to in class. You think her name was Vada. You didn’t want to ask, if you did and Vada wasn’t her name, you might as well crawl into a hole. 
Mia immediately greets you.
Vada kicks at dirt beneath her, smiling a little foolishly, she realizes when she thinks how silly she might look to you. Her silly smile slightly fades to a more soft one to try and not seem weird. Instead you feel like she might feel uncomfortable with you, maybe she’s closed to people she meets at first. You hope that it doesn’t stay that way
“Get in!” The blonde smiles, and you swerve into the backseat as you drive off to the nearest seven eleven.
Mia’s car smells like flowers, you almost feel a little carsick from the leather and floral scent mixed together. You smell something else though, sweet plum and fluffy musk. You think it’s Vada, you can almost smell her shampoo from here.
It’s a little quiet, Mia talks to Vada, you try not to disrupt so you pretend you're looking at the window staring at literally nothing. It’s like the blue-eyed girl can see the way you try to keep to yourself and don’t want to be involved when you don’t think you should. So she bumps the music up.
Vada wants to talk to you. She can feel this urge for her heart to make her mouth open and speak. But for some reason she feels nervous. It’s weird, she’s usually open and starts off with teasing. Why can’t she speak now? Maybe it’s because.. Vada doesn’t even have a reason to know, she just doesn’t know.
“Dude, how is there traffic already to go to a fucking seven-eleven? We literally just left school.” Mia murmurs, tapping her shoes to the music.
Vada turns around, to look at the cars behind her, maybe to check how many are behind her.
That’s what Mia thought, but Vada wondered what you were doing. She's never met someone that tries to be considerate, to be polite and not wanting to interrupt anyone at any time
She notices the way you take the opportunity of the slightly opened window to take a breath of fresh air and let that small crack to let the small breeze blow through your hair. She sees the way you twirl your necklace up and down, side to side, then spin it around your fingers. She notices how you don’t notice her, so you don’t look at her, you look at the sky, the small baby cows, the cars. 
It’s like a pencil is engraving into her mind to write all the details she sees. But she doesn’t know why. 
Your figure slightly leans into the window, closing your eyes to rest. Maybe you’re thinking about Mia and what a good friend she is. Maybe you’re thinking about wanting to get to know her, Vada. Maybe you’re thinking of how long it’ll take for you to blend in into this place. Maybe you’re thinking how your place didn’t have many cows everywhere. Maybe you lived in the snowy mountains, or the coastal shorelines where you could take a dip in cool water every summer morning.
She sees your eyes flutter as the car slowly stops. Her body tenses and turns back to the front, you’re already at seven-eleven. 
“It’s honestly kind of warm outside, I can turn on the AC on this thing if you don’t wanna go,” Mia says, finally turning around to look at you rubbing your eyes.
“No, no, it’s ‘kay, I’ll come, gotta exercise these legs anyway.” You say, opening her door and following suite with Mia and Vada. The small concreted rocks crunching beneath your shoes. 
Mia obviously wants to check out the candy section, but Vada wants another slushy. 
“Hold up, I think they have the candy they didn’t have when I checked the other time. Vadaaa you can just roam with Y/N. I’m not sure if you guys had seven-eleven where you lived.” She peeks into the candy section and with a spin of a corner she’s gone.
Vada stands there, awkwardly. She feels like if anything, you should be the one standing there like that. You stand there, looking at the slushies. Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, mountain dew, honestly you didn’t know if you should get one.
“Do you want to get one?” Vada asks, the first time you really heard her speak.
Your ears perk, turning to face her, “I’m not really a slushy person,” you speak softly, “I’m a little thirsty though.”
Vada smiles at that, “I like the cherry flavor and blue raspberry, but you gotta swirl it a certain way for it to taste the way I really like it, y’know?” She speaks, you nod, noticing her baggy basketball shorts and oversized shirt.
She walks closer, she can smell the same sweetness of your scent. Strawberries and roasted marshmallows. Your scent is oddly comforting, a scent where anyone would hug you longer and never let you go to smell it forever.
She stops before you can process anything, slightly backing away and focusing on the slushy dispenser.
“Okay. So like, I know you’re probably not supposed to do this but I just put my index and middle finger under the dispenser and,” she stops, looking at you, “make sure you wash your hands though,” she laughs. “But if you don’t know what flavor, just lick it off your fingers.”
Vada can almost sense you suppressing your laughter, “Seriously! I don’t give two shits about those security cameras. Honestly we go here so often we could get a free slushy and not pay.” She places her fingers under the dispenser of the cherry blast and presses the button, stopping it and licking it off her fingers.
It’s like she’s teaching you. She likes the way you’re interested and really looks like you want to learn.
“Do you want to try?” The slightly shorter brunette asks, her voice trying not to seem pressuring at all.
You think, looking at her fingers as she wipes it with a random brown napkin and throwing it away in the trash, “Okay,” your smooth voice responds before approaching beside her.
You use your index finger and place it under the blue raspberry one.
“This one?” Vada questions, when you nod she presses softly on the dispense button.
Your giggle from the icy cold makes her feel like the happiness she feels when she makes a small child laugh.
Vada turns to look at you and smiles, taking off her hand off the dispense button and watching you lick your fingers. (they were clean I promise)
“I like this one,” you say, making a small eye contact glance with her.
“Do you want it? I can pay.”
“It’s okay, I’ll see what’s at Mia’s home, I seriously don’t think I can finish the small one alone!”
-
Vada gets to know you more the more Mia invites you. She notices the way you open up, instead of trying to politely look out the window so you don’t disrupt conversations that you aren’t sure what their about, the car is lively,
Loud.
The music is always turned down now, giggles are filled, sometimes there are jokes about classes, teachers, people, the past.
Sometimes there are questions, family, hobbies.
Vada learns you have two siblings, a much younger and much older one, older brother, younger sister.
You like to read and write, play the guitar, bake, you love going on sunsetty and late night drives, it makes her interested in that part.
When you told her, a part of her wanted to tell you, ‘I like late night drives too.’ Maybe she’ll drive you around the freeway on a summer weekend in the future.
She likes the way you include her, how you always include people to make sure they never feel lonely.
She begins to notice the way your smiles aren’t shy anymore, they’re genuine. She can feel the way you’re opening up to her, from the way you look at her in a way she doesn’t remember. You look at her like she feels like she’s the only girl you’re looking at. She sees how your eyes soften in your irises the more you listen to her speak.
-
Vada never thought she’d experience jealousy for the first time in her life.
Sure she’s felt it before, when her fists clench when she had gotten second place when she was younger. It was like an ember. But this time, it was much stronger.
It was during some school event her high school came up with, couples day or what not.
You sat next to Vada and Nick during lunch, Mia with her friend group usually at this time. You were huddled up to Vada, munching on some chips with your hair up. 
“Omph, I think jazz is better than rock honestly,” you say, muffled with chips in your mouth.
“Mmm, reasonable.”
After taking a long refreshing sip of water, you and Vada stand up.
“Nick, me and Y/N are gonna meet up Mia in the hallway, ‘kay? See you weirdo,” Vada walks along with you as you two laugh with each other over random gossip.
As you see Mia in the distance, wanting to wave her over, your friend Liam grabs you by the waist, his hands gentle, flowers in his hand.
You almost jump. You met Liam around the first week of school, he was sweet, gentle-man like. He offered to study with you in the library after school. 
“Y/N, hey,” he says, his voice like syrup. Too sweet for your liking, “Sorry for pulling you away. I just wanted to tell you something.”
You saw how Vada stood on the side, awkwardly, not to mention how she was glaring at Liam.
You turn back to the curled hair blonde in front of you, “That’s ‘kay, what is it?”
Liam hands you the flowers he was holding, leaving you, almost confused, your face heating up.
“Look, I know I didn’t know you for long, but you’re sweet, you know? No one ever has to talk bad about you and to be in this school as a person like that is rare. I kind of, you know, like you. You’re pretty, really smart, and have a personality of gold. I know you don’t really like me, but I’d like to know what you think.”
You stare at the flowers held in your hands, your hands feel clammy. 
“Liam.. This is really sweet. I appreciate.. You know, you thinking of me in that silver lighting. It honestly, in a sense, makes me feel proud. Thanks. I, I think I need some time, I never thought of you as the kind of person I’d be in a relationship with. But maybe with time if we get to know each other.. You know.. Gosh I’m sorry.” Your voice trails off, a tight smile on your lips, seeing the way Liam nodded immediately in understanding. You felt bad. Rejecting the sweetest boy you ever knew in this school, you just never saw him as something more than a brother.
“Don’t be sorry Y/N, that’s okay, I know what you mean, I just wanted to tell you before it got out of hand, but hey, now that I told you, as long as we stay friends that’s okay. That won’t change any friendship right?”
“I promise,” you assure, smiling a little.
Liam nods again, flowers in your hand as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans in to kiss your forehead.
He then walks away and you look down at the flowers in hand.
“Okay, that was cheesy as hell,” Vada says, her voice almost annoyed, maybe from waiting to see Liam’s monologue.
“I didn’t even know he felt that way about me.”
Vada rolls her eyes, “Of course you don’t,” you can’t help but feel almost hurt from her words. It’s like she was calling you oblivious, ignorant.
“Why would he even give you flowers? Gosh, he’s going wild for you, you barely even know him. He’s doing too much for someone like you right now,” she scoffed, slightly, not knowing why someone that you haven’t known for a while would give you flowers so early when you didn’t know him that well. But she worded it so wrongly.
Offended, almost wounded, insulted. Did Vada really think you were the kind of person no one would like? Did one of your closest friends find you in a sense, unlovable?
Vada saw the way your figure tensed, your eyes narrowing, before looking like they were about to cry.
Shit. 
God she’s never seen you cry before. Vada felt her heart almost shatter, seeing the way your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. She didn’t mean it in a rude way, god now that she thinks about it, that’s one of the rudest things she could say. 
She didn’t mean it, Vada doesn’t even know why she said it, maybe she just didn’t think Liam was right for you. 
She felt jealousy, and she could feel it herself. Maybe she wanted a sweet guy too.
Or maybe she just wanted you.
“God Y/N, I didn’t mean-” Vada reaches her hand to your shoulder and immediately you shrug it off. 
“You don’t think that I’m lovable enough to truly be loved, is that what it is Vada?” You say, your eyes sharp, “You don’t think I’m capable of deserve someone like Liam? How do you even see me?” You murmur, looking obviously, something Vada never wanted in the first place, in disbelief to even feel a tear slip down to your cheek.
“No, I swear I just-”
The bell had rang, and before she could try to apologize, and run after you, you squeezed into the crowd of people, heading for the class Vada knew was the only one you didn’t have with her.
Mia watched from a distance, seeing how tears poured from your eyes as you pushed through the crowds of people.
-
It’s tense, sort of, when Mia drives to her house.
You’re not talking to Vada, headphones are in, basically screaming that you’re closed off right now. Vada wants to talk to you, but she doesn’t know how to apologize for something she didn’t mean.
You look at the window outside and she feels like this might’ve gone back to stage one, it might take weeks for you to open up again.
But yet again, you’re Y/N, she knows you too well to know that you would never try to ignore her for that long.
Mia has to turn up the music again, something that hasn’t really happened for almost a few months, making small talk with Vada.
When you get to her house, Vada holds the door for you, you don’t look at her, just mumble a small, “thanks.”
“Shoot, sorry guys, if you guys are okay with staying here for half an hour or so, that’d be great. I completely forgot I had to stay after school and drop off one of my friends,” Mia immediately slaps her face, grabbing her bag for dance as she looks back, “Fridge is open if you guys want snacks, remote is in the cabinet under the couch, and all those joints ‘n stuff are in the back. K, love you, see ya,” Mia says, blowing a funny air kiss before shutting the door.
Now it’s awkward, out of all days of course Mia has a practice.
It’s quiet, your headphones are hung around your neck, kicking your feet against the carpet uncomfortably, you don’t know if you want to speak.
“Please, can you talk to me?” Vada pleads, making you almost flinch.
“I’m sorry for what I said today, I swear I didn’t mean it in a mean way towards you. I hope you know me well enough to know I would never mean it, okay? I was just getting a little upset over the fact guys would try asking girls out when they don’t know them that much, you know?.. Um.. Yeah. I guess I got a little overprotective. So I’m sorry. I hate when we don’t talk, it makes me feel like you hate me and stuff.”
You look at her, tugging your bottom lip between your lips, then you breathe, “I don’t hate you Vads. I promise. I just got a little taken aback and I honestly felt a little hurt from your words, especially since I knew you weren’t the kind of person to say those things in a mean manner. I forgive you. I really care about you, it was just weird today. I already felt bad rejecting a sweet boy I met and I wasn’t expecting to have my feelings hurt about it, I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I swear I didn’t, I just didn’t think Liam should’ve asked you so early, I didn’t even think you gave any signs.”
You giggle, making Vada’s shoulders relax from your icy facade beginning to melt, “You sound jealous.”
“Oh, nuh-uh.”
“Mm..” You mutter, not believing her, and making her groan. 
Vada quickly changes the topic, realizing how red her face was. 
“Do you wanna.. Um, go outside? Take a breather for a bit.”
“Okay.”
As you two close the sliding door, Vada sits down next to you, the silence is now comfortable. Her eyes begin to linger on the pack of cigars in front of her.
“I know you’re not the kind to smoke, but do you wanna share a blunt with me?” Vada asks, softly, it’s a question that you know if you say no, she’ll completely get it.
You hesitate, you never smoked before, let alone want to. But you look at Vada’s eyes and your head nods yes.
“Okay.”
You can see the excitement on her face, she makes a small squeal as she begins to roll the blunt, lighting it up with a lighter, you see her brush off some of the dust. 
She places her lips on the cigarette, inhaling softly, before exhaling the smoke and a plethora of smoky fog wafts around you.
Her soft eyebrows raise, her eyes flicking to the blunt and your eyes, offering it to you.
Vada hears you breathe, she can almost feel your breath on her face as you look at the cigarette.
“A little help here?” You ask, voice tiny, shy. 
“Okay baby,” Vada jokes, seeing the way your lips try not to smile, but fail miserably.
Vada scoots closer to you, so you two are huddled up and she takes your hand, “Okay, you always spin your led pencil in class, just hold the blunt similarly.” She feels the warmth of your hand and it makes her breath hitch. She puts the blunt between your index and middle finger, in which you make sure to hold with grip. Vada taps on your thumb, “Up,” her voice instructs, in which you support your thumb to hold it.
“Hey, now you got it!” she pats your shoulder, like a ‘yay’
She leans closer to you, your face is mere inches apart as she gently places the end of the cigarette in your mouth. Immediately the smoke fills your senses and you look at Vada, she coaxes you, “Inhale, not too much.” You inhale, wait for a moment, then exhale. 
“There you go, you’re making me feel like a teacher Y/N,” she clicks her tongue.
She sees the way you exhale through your mouth, and the smoke fades in front of her face, you take another hit, this time you’re full on staring at Vada, with your doe eyes deep into hers. 
The smoke wafts around her again, and when you pass it to her, you lean into her. Hearing how her breath hitches, your body pressed against her.
It goes like that for a while, puff, puff, pass. Where Vada offers the blunt to you, but instead of taking it with your finger, your lips part and your teeth nibble on the cigarette for a moment. 
It’s like a game. She doesn’t know if it’s the humor you’ve grown, or the teasing. The teasing. But the way you make eye contact with her while your lips capture the blunt you two have shared makes her stomach stir.
While you smoke and you feel the ease of tranquility wash over your senses, Vada grabs some munchies, cookies, some donuts Mia bought the other day, and some potato chips.
She can’t see you. But she knows you’re staring at her, she can feel the way she senses she’s being watched. 
You’re there, staring at her, looking down at her baggy clothing, then looking back up while she puts down the snacks. Your cheeks are flushed, you hear the way the music on your phone is beginning to fade, because you’re here, staring at her. 
You think you may have taken too many hits, it’s a different kind of high. You just want to take the potato chips and grow wings. Fly away from this place and go to Italy.
Vada notices, you look spaced out, but you’re staring at her. Not as captivated as you were once before, so she nudges you and you immediately look back up at her. She’s high, she sees a glint in your mesmerizing eyes. A glint that makes her want to pull you closer.
“I feel high,” you state, you don’t notice how you sound till your speech is slurred.
“I think we’ve caught on to that,” Vada laughs, with a roll of her eyes as you snack on potato chips.
“I feel like you're prettyyy Vadss.. Pretty dope and badass,” you say, your fingers showing a peace sign and Vada busts out laughing.
“You have some nasty high that makes you use my kind of slang huh Y/N?”
You’re staring again, except the only difference now is she can tell what kind of stare it is. And this time it makes her feel weird, she can’t put her finger on it.
“Oh yeah, uh huh, yeppers,” you murmur, munching on potato chips and throwing it across the outside couch you sat on, “Can we have a cheese pizza instead with tickling my pickling pickle?..”
Flying. You feel like you’re flying, breathing out and in that smoke. Vada feels like she should be laughing but by the time she feels that she already is.
The cigarette in your hand gets twisted and her footsteps on it, cracking it.
“Think that’s enough for today Y/N, you’re not speaking from the heart.”
“Pickles?”
“No.”
“Dill.”
“No pickles!”
“Yes pickl-No!!!-okay..”
Finally, Vada drags you inside Mia’s house, carrying you to the couch and tossing you on it.
“WeeeEeeEEeEEE,” you’re acting silly. Vada has never seen this care-free, childish side in you. 
“I think you’re gonna need to sleep this high off sleeping beauty.”
“I can’t sleeeeeep.”
“Well you need to sleep,” Vada forces, authority lacing her voice. You make a grumble. 
“Okay fine,” the small cushion on the couch shifts from you moving around so much. Vada watches you in the corner of your eye, finding it a little cute the way you are right now.
She was going to buy some dill pickles while you closed your eyes, but you seemed like you couldn’t, making Vada sigh and approach you.
“Scooch,” her voice rings in your ears, rubbing your hair softly as you make a tired, grumpy sound and scoot a little, your body wrapped into a marshmallowy blanket.
She doesn’t think she would do this, but if she can make you shut up a little bit, and feel your warmth, maybe it’ll be okay. The shorter brunette feels the way you curl into her body and melt like putty. She doesn’t think much of it, what you two are sharing right now.
Vada feels fond, to let you feel safe in her arms, is something she will always cherish.
Her voice hushes you, pressing her lips to your forehead, while you murmur about pickles. The whispers begin to die down, like the ending of a symphony. She cuddles you, you nudge your nose into her chest, “Don’t go Vads..” your voice is barely heard, but she can hear it, “Stay.”
“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky,” her pinky raises up and interlocks with yours.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Now sleep angel,” her voice is teasing, but part of it she feels like you’ve grown on her, this childish side that she finds sweet.
You don’t respond, of course you don’t, because as soon as she looks down at you asleep on her chest. And by the time she can even process, Vada is asleep with you.
Mia comes home seeing you two sleep together, taking 5 photos and even having the time to take 2 polaroid pictures of you two wrapped into each other.
“Those two are going to be together soon.”
-
It’s the fourth time you’ve watched Shrek in film class. 4 damn times for 2 months.
Vada is starting to tick, you giggle at it. But she finds Shrek so iconic, she can’t bring herself to hate it. Well for now.
“I fucking feel like I can actually memorize each line by now,” she mutters, it makes you and Mia laugh even harder. 
“Why doesn’t Ms. Valentina choose the movies after that? It’s always just Shrek 1.” 
Vada doesn’t even know by now. 
The lights turn off, the only sunshine you can see is from the warmth of the sun that creeps into the blinds. The best part of having film in this period is that she always has it first on Fridays. Which means when the light switches turn off, it’s the queue where everyone pushes the desks and gets comfy, the desks stay on the side for the rest of the day.
After grunts and small clatter of water bottles falling down from people pushing the desks, everyone crawls to their spot in their own little friend group they have. 
Vada already has the couch in the back of the classroom reserved, she doesn’t give no shits, if she’ll fight for it she will. 
You find it a little funny, since you remember how people stopped trying to fight, she’s persistent. 
She pats the seat next to her and you sit next to her. Mia sits next to you. 
And for the rest of the period you three gossip, curl into each other, and chatter.
-
Once again, at the end of the school day, you, Vada, and Mia are laying together on the couch with several blankets and stuffed animals stacked on top of each other.
“Pass the popcorn please,” you nudge Mia, who’s holding the large popcorn box filled with buttery popcorn (that she kept when she ordered a jumbo sized popcorn box from the movies, that cost 10 damn dollars.) Mia passes it to Vada, which munches on a handful, then hands it to you. Of course with you ending up with some popcorn thrown into your hair.
You happy snack on the popcorn, munching and crunching. Vada and your hands dig into the bottom with the richer buttered popcorn. The brunette’s cheeks feel warm from feeling your hand. Maybe from the blanket. Maybe from the heat of the popcorn. Or maybe something else. 
Mia regrets asking Vada for a movie recommendation. As soon as she sees Vada search up ‘Sh’ on the search bar, she groans, seeing how Vada clicked Shrek. 
For the second, fucking, time, today.
As the movie begins to roll, the blonde whispers, “If I have children, I’m never gonna let them watch this. It’s been playing way more than enough and I am not risking having to play it every morning when I’m older.”
Vada snorts, “I’m going to tell your children that it’s a great movie, so great that they’ll play it morning and night.”
It goes like that for the next 30 minutes, you two are snug, with a fluffy weighted blanket draped over the three of you as the movie continues.
As the forty five minute mark surpasses, Vada is distracted in the movie. She’s seen it 4 times, yet she’s still watching it. She feels a faint pressure press against her shoulder, she brushes it off, she knows that it’s her brain signaling her to stop watching the movie.
She doesn’t.
But as the minutes pass, the pressure stays, if not stronger.
She feels curious, turning her head away from the projector to find you asleep peacefully on her shoulder. Vada’s eyes soften at the sight of your lips parted, gentle breaths blowing on her neck from your lips and the white of the blanket covering your chin. You’re asleep, and it brings her back to you two asleep on each other the other day. But this time it feels different. You two aren’t high.
You were curled up to her, with your legs tucked and faced to the edge of the couch. She’s seen you asleep before, when you were so tired one hung out that Mia lent you your room. Vada only peeked inside to see you asleep and still like a rock. You aren’t the kind to fall asleep easily, let alone snore. But Vada could hear a soft snore fall from your lips.
Vada can’t help it, but she feels a grin trying to form on her face, as you curl up to her, she tucks a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Now your hair is draped all over her shoulders, she sniffs it, nudging her nose to your hair. Your shampoo smells again like strawberries. 
Except this time it smells more intoxicating.
It smells so lightly sweet. But it makes her feel dizzy, her nose to the top of your head, relying on your scent to comfort her. 
You shift lightly, a soft murmur being made as your eyes slightly twitch, but fall asleep just as fast when she takes a strand of hair in her fingertips and curls it. 
As you're asleep and Vada is focused on you, Mia mumbles against her, quiet enough to not wake you. The TV was already loud enough, plus you were all the way in the corner.
“You like Y/N,” she says, and it wasn’t an opinion, it was a rhetorical statement.
Vada slows down with her fingers curling in your hair, turning to face Mia.
She feels a stutter get caught into her throat, “Uh, w-wait what?”
“You like Y/N,” she says again, her blue eyes looking at Vada, searching for an answer. An answer she already knew, she just needed to hear it from her.
“N-no, what? Mia, what makes you think that?”
It sounds stupid to the blonde, a small laugh coming from her, she speaks quieter so you can’t hear her, although you’re knocked off asleep.
“Well, to start off, since she stepped into our film class for the first day, you couldn’t stop staring at her Vads. And when I invited her so we could get to know her better, I’ve never seen you so quiet with someone until you met her. You’re always so open to meeting new people. At first, I thought you were nervous,” Mia laughs, finding it almost unbelievable when she says it out loud, “and never thought the Vada Cavell would be nervous to meet new people. But you look at her like the missing puzzle piece you’ve taken years to find. You look at her like she’s given you the light to your universe.”
Vada wants to roll her eyes, tell Mia how insane she is, she wants to throw her hands in the air. But she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to wake you up, she just wants to press her lips to your forehead and tell you that everything is okay when you wake up. 
But it all comes down at her at once. She can’t believe it herself. Well she knew she felt something. The the way she sees things now. Where she’d walk into a library filled with books and think, “Y/N would love it here.” Or when she’d smell the aroma in the air when Amelia and her mother would bake cookies together, and can’t help, but think about you. 
Mia herself has a guitar, and when there are days when you can’t make it, Vada spends two hours as her best friend talks to her to practice. So maybe one day, when she sees you pull out her guitar, she’ll say, “I can play it too.”
And when your pretty eyes already reveal the yearn you feel to hear her play, she’ll play all the songs that she’s practiced while she eagers you to cuddle up to her. Then you’ll realize they are all your favorite songs. Because Vada spent every two hours when you’re not there to practice for you. 
She hears Mia keep speaking, “You bring her up every time you can, okay? You’re reminded of her everywhere you go, and I’ve never seen you or her look at someone the way you do with each other. Remember that day you two first met? The whole car rode to seven eleven, you were staring at her staring at the window.”
“You’re falling for her day by day Vada,” Mia says, and the brunette can see the way Mia begins to smile, “You just don’t notice it until you realize how much she means to you. You used to refuse to take the extra guitar I had, but when you saw the way she played riffs, you took it and played songs that you knew one day you would want to play for her.”
Mia pauses, then speaks again, “You should’ve seen how shattered she was when you grew over protective of her and said some things that came out wrong. You didn’t see the way as soon as she left for 5th period she was going to cry. Come on, and you two fucking fell asleep with each other. It’s like I’m reading the slowest burn wattpad book in reality.”
The shorter girl is still stroking through your hair, as you’re asleep with soft snores coming out of your mouth every once in a while, still trying to process something she knew was true for a long time.
Vada doesn’t want to admit it, but she exhales a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I don’t know. I just feel really fond of her I guess. She’s grown really special to me and I think she’s someone I never knew I needed in my life. She’s there to you know, listen. Or be open to whatever..” Vada plays with the string of her oversized shorts while letting you nuzzle to her neck. “I guess she’s more important to me than I thought.”
Mia silently squeals, nudging Vada’s shoulder, “You can’t not convince me she likes you too, okay? Now you better fucking confess or I’m going to do a backflip and crack your neck open.”
-
Vada hasn’t felt nervous since she met you, but today she was nervous nervous. She bought sky blue, pink, ivory, and sweet apple tulips. 
It feels so cheesy, but she’s fucking here for it.
She prepares a basket with everything she knows about you, lego flowers, a cow stuffy with some random coquette bow attached to it, (that she may have not asked your older brother what animal you liked.) As soon as she shopped, the cute little cow with the laced bow wrapped around it was calling for her.
She fills the basket with kisses, tears off the most beautiful, raw pieces of poetry, she read and thought of you. She tears the extra copies of the songs she played on the guitar because of you, and adds it as scraps. 
And of course, she adds small fairy lights, then attaches all the photos she has with you. She has never been more thankful for Mia always taking 2 polaroids whenever you take one together, so she can keep one and add it to her memory book.
She’s anxious, picking at her fingers, it’s like when she first experienced the shooting. Except this is a hundred times worse.
Mia drops her off Saturday morning, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “The worst she can say is no,” and by the way Vada clenches the basket she has for you, Mia quickly adds, “Which is a .00001% chance. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
Vada rolls her eyes, clearly not helping easing her anxiety as she closes the door and approaches your door, knocking softly.
When it’s open, she’s greeted with the sight of a newly awoken you, looking sleepy, but she thinks it makes you even cuter.
You’re wearing the plaid pants she lent you, she remembers you couldn’t stop wearing it because it was so comfy. She let you have her extra fourth pair. She found it funny whenever she saw you waddling around in her oversized clothes.
“Mhh..” You keep rubbing your eyes, a yawn escaping out of you, “Vads it’s 8AM on a Saturday morning, what’s going o-” you finally open your eyes to have a nervous fidgety Vada with tulips, some Valentine's day throwup basket and a heart shaped balloon.
Vada takes a deep breath before pushing the tulips towards your way, “Okay, Y/N, I don’t know what to say. But I wanted to tell you for a while now. I notice the way I bring you up everyday, or how long my gaze lingers when you’re in the same room as me. Or how I find a way to bring our friendship up every second I can. I’ve grown the motivation to do the hobbies I’ve seen you once do. And.. I’m not the person to.. Get nervous when I meet people for the first time. But, you’ve been someone who I feel protective over, and you’re special to me in a way where you’re someone I didn’t ever think I needed in my life. But meeting you has really made you be the highlight of my day. I didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies, let alone these fluttering sparks when you’re near. Or to realize the feelings I felt when Liam gave you flowers and wanted to ask you out was jealousy. It just feels right to have you with me, here. You’ve really distracted me from all the things I’ve found stressful, and no one has ever been able to do that. I didn’t even think it was possible. I-I don’t even know how, but it was like some invisible string tied us when I met you, but I’m so thankful you’re in my life. And it’s so weird to say this now..” 
Vada pauses, catching her breath and trying not to make eye contact with you, but she can see your cheeks getting rosy. Your hands are full with her flowers. You certainly don’t look awkward like you once did with Liam. More like, overly shy now. You’re blushing. And this time your hands don’t feel clammy. This time, you’re so desperate to feel her hands on your waist and have your hands tucked around her to hug her.
Vada gulps and blurts out almost too quickly to comprehend, “But I like you. Will you go out for dinner with me this Friday night? I get if you don’t feel the same, and I just want you to know I don’t want our friendship to be ruined at all but-”
“Vada, I’d love to go out with you.” You interrupt, wanting her to shut up and kiss you. To do all the sweet things you thought of when you smoked with her, to fly with her and carry her home.
“R-really? You’re not just saying that?”
“No. I think.. I don’t know, I think we’ve grown really really close, in a way where I never had someone that I could rely on so much. I really didn’t think meeting you could, you know, make my day a hundred times better, and I always felt confused with my feelings, you know? In a way where I feel like friends shouldn’t feel the sweet way I think about you?”
“Yeah..” Vada murmurs, “Yeah,” she says, more understanding.
She turns to you, you look like spring. The season, with your hands filled with flowers, your hair perfectly ruffled and your hair curling in your ends. Vada speaks again, “Do you want to give us a try? You know, I just don’t ever want us to not be friends one day because we didn’t work out.”
“Please,” you whisper, and when you say that she immediately pulls you in for a hug. 
This hug is just as comforting as all the other ones she’s given you in the past. But now, the thought of this hug being something more isn’t there anymore. Because it is something more. It makes you bury your nose into her chest.
Mia smiles in the distance, snapping a photo of you two hugging, “Those two love birds, I called it.”
-
Friday night
Here you are, in a black dress you remember you fell in love with when you went shopping. It was a simple dress where your shoulders were exposed, a laced neck and you put on some hoops. 
The dress was not too short, but it stopped a little before your knees. 
And of course, a string tying the prettiest bow on the back of your waist, you didn’t want to admit it, but you felt pretty when you looked at the mirror. 
Your mother dropped you off outside of the restaurant Vada reserved. 
She kisses your cheek goodbye, winking for good luck as you wave and watch her go. Now you kind of regret not bringing a jacket. You should’ve brought the leather one you were thinking about at the last minute, and decided not to.
Your headphones are plugged in, you’re 15 minutes early, and as the minutes tick, you feel colder from the sun beginning to set.
Cologne by beabadoobee is playing, you ruffle your curled hair, till you feel the music abruptly stop and your headphones being wrapped around your neck.
You can hear Vada’s voice, ruffling your hair, “Hi,” she says, not more awkward than you feel right now. You feel her gaze linger on your figure, and suddenly you feel hot, the cold you felt 5 minutes ago was completely gone. 
She rubs your shoulders, and you can tell what you’re wearing just made her fall much more for you.
What she’s wearing is not Vada. Not her basketball shorts and oversized tees. This is Vada, in all black with the lightest makeup, you can still see the freckles you love. Her hair is half up half down, and you brush her bangs to the side.
“Vads,” you breathe, and the way you call her that makes her heart pound ferociously, “You look pretty.”
“I tried my best, how do I look, silly pretty girl?” Vada twirls her dress, making you laugh.
“Like something Vada would never wear, but I love it.”
“You’re the one to talk, all soft and shy girl wearing something that I would definitely not stop staring at this whole evening. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, come on Y/N,” she tugs your wrist slightly, noticing how your wrists are decorated with the bracelets you two made together in the past. It makes her smile while she points at it, “Good decoration choice.”
“Only for the best.”
As you two enter the restaurant, you reach for Vada’s hand, she can see the way you’re searching for her. Like a puppy whining for its mother. She drifts her hand towards you and interlaces it with yours.
The place is dimly lit. The only light is from the sunsetty view and the fairy lights that are hung. 
It’s romantic.
And you feel all blushy, like some teenage girl in a friends to lovers book.
Vada feels the way you grasp onto her hands, your fingertips squeezing, she can already tell you’re nervous, she calms you down with a circle with her thumb on the back of your palm. 
You two sit next to each other, looking at the menu.
It’s getting a little cold, and you shift, “Okay, not to ruin the mood, but I have no clue what in the hell I should get,” Vada laughs, the Y/N humor she knew was clearly showing.
“What about we share some alfredo and their bread? Their bread is so filling and to die for.”
You nod, to go with the flow, “Okay Vads, whatever you think is good must be yummy.”
You two order and spend the time talking, by the next 15 minutes of waiting, you’re cuddled into her, playing with her hair.
“Hey, you’re messing my hair up silly.”
“I like playing with it. It’s very smooth!”
Vada presses her lips to your temple, rubbing your cheeks to make your blush more apparent.
“Stop that.”
“Well I think it’s cute when your face is all pink.”
You make a quiet whine, Vada still smells your toasted marshmallow and strawberry scent. The scent she could never get tired of. The intoxicating sweetness.
A few moments later with cuddles and talks, your food arrives and you share the noodles, digging in. Vada drapes your hair back so it won't fall into the sauce. As you eat and munch, Vada twirls the noodles on her fork and brings it to your lips, looking into your eyes. You look back up at her, feeling tiny as you open your mouth and she feeds you. You feed her back, letting her rub the small speck of sauce on your cheek with her thumb.
“Stop being so shy,” Vada whispers, nudging your nose to hers.
“I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before,” you whisper back.
“Well, it’s just me, nothings gonna change, I swear, maybe I’ll throw more pillows during pillow fights though,” she jokes, and that makes you nuzzle your nose more to hers.
You press your lips to her cheek and continue snacking on bread rolls and dessert.
-
“The stars are really bright today,” you say, your hand in Vadas as you two are staring at the scene above you, the sunset long gone and replaced with the light from the moon.
“Wellll, I think that just means that we’re amazing for each other, huh?”
“Maybe.”
“Nope, it’s a yes.”
“Yep.”
The heat you felt when you first saw Vada when your date began was gone, you were cold. No doubt did the girl not notice, seeing your slightly trembling figure. She drapes her leather jacket over you as you make a small noise of appreciation, sniffling your nose. The jacket immediately warms you up, you pull it to your shoulders more.
Her soft eyes look down at you, and she sees the way the stars reflect off your eyes, those eyes. She feels lucky to be able to be greeted by them every single day you’re around.
“Thank you for today,” you finally breathe, and Vada boops your nose.
“Well thank you for always being sweet and silly. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anyone else.”
You boop her nose back, sharing a slurpee that of course you got from seven eleven. It brings her deja vu. To remember how you first politely refused on buying a slurpee when you first met Vada. Then beginning to use the trick she taught you to poke your finger under the dispenser and lick your finger. Then buying your own small slurpee. Then to share it with one straw. 
As you two reach her house, she twirls you on the porch and lifts you up, making you squeal and giggle. It’s quiet, comfortable silence as she looks down at your lips. And she knows you want her too. Your legs wrap around her, and you lean and press your lips to hers. 
She feels sparks and a flock of butterflies stirring in your stomach when you’re around, but as she feels your soft, warmth of your lips on hers, she feels fireworks. Electricity shocking her whole body. She hears you make a soft moan of longing, something you wanted for so long. She wanted you for so long too. Her lips press against yours more, feeling your desperateness as she leans more pressure onto you. You taste like sweet strawberries, indulging on the way you make a noise of wanting more more more of her lips as her tongue runs over your bottom lip.
You both pull away, panting, cheeks flushed, your body feels like it’s flaming into oblivion, she grabs your waist tightly, then a small smile forms on both of your faces.
“I’m pretty sure you kiss during like.. Your fourth date.”
“Oh,” Vada says, faking to look sad before cracking up a grin, “Oh well, we’re too in love with each other and we broke that! Too bad, so sad.”
You giggle as she twirls you around and brings you into her room, kissing your neck along the way, she tosses you into the bed and you squeal, kicking your legs as she crawls next to you.
“Come here,” she whispers, you scoot closer to embrace and she wraps her arms around you, switching the fireplace on and playing some music in the background.
She spoons you, but you turn your front to be pressed to her chest, feeling her kisses on your neck and her fingers ghosting along your jawline.
“Pretty girl,” she coos, seeing the way you were a little tired, “Sleepy?”
“Yes.”
You bury your nose into her, her sweet, musky, coconut scent comforts you. The way your scent mixes and it just smells so… Your eyes are fluttering before you can come up with a thought. You stir in Vada’s arms, feeling her arms wrapped around your waist and your limbs tangled together.
“Don’t let go, stay,” you whisper, like you once did before in the past.
“I won’t, pinky promise, I’ll be here baby. Go to sleep, okay?”
You both begin to fall asleep, with polaroids hanging off you wrapped around vines around Vada’s bed. There was one with you two holding slushies and showing off your purple tongues, another one with you two in a group photo, one that Vada loved the most, where you two were cuddling. 
miaa: you owee meee omg u guys r adorable, update me tmmrw vads
Your pinkies interlock and your cuddle up to her. She can see the way your eyes twitch from closing. She knows you’re asleep when she hears your breathing begin to even out. And she definitely knows she’s your comfort, because a soft snore slips out of you no longer than 5 minutes later.
228 notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 1 day
Text
woman | h.rj
“i hope you can see the shape that i’m in while he’s touching your skin”
💿now playing: woman by harry styles
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❯ summary: Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.
❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader (ft. riize’s shotaro)
❯ genre: exes, smut, angst, idol!au
❯ words: 6.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, jealousy, swearing, arguing, slight angst, smut, dom!renjun, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), praising, mirror sex, hair pulling, creampie, porn with a little bit of plot, use of 'my girl', reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just renjun being jealous and sulky for 6k words.
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Fuck Osaki Shotaro. 
That’s the only thing going through Renjun’s mind as he sees the younger dancer have his hands all over you in your dance rehearsal. 
Renjun knows he has no right to be seething right now - he’s the one that broke up with you - but there’s something about seeing Shotaro in your personal space, tracing his fingers down your torso, and making you smile with every compliment he gives you on your technique that’s really starting to piss him off.  
It's not that Renjun has any specific issue with Shotaro himself; any guy in his position would irk him. Still, it’s Shotaro's love for helping others improve their dancing that only adds fuel to Renjun's frustration, especially now that he's volunteered to assist you.
As Renjun feigns busyness on his phone, waiting for his own rehearsal, he seethes behind the glass of the practice room, a visible vein pulsing on his forehead. 
“Dude, you’re practically burning holes into Taro’s hoodie,” Chenle chuckles as he walks over, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at Renjun.
“Don’t be so ridiculous, I’m not!” Renjun rolls his eyes and moves his bag to make room for Chenle to sit on the floor beside him.
“Oh yeah?” Chenle teases, “Then what’s with the bursting vein on your forehead?”
“I’ve just been replying to some shitty emails,” he lies, hastily locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket.
Chenle quirks a brow and gives him a deadpan look, “You had the weather app open.”
Renjun runs a hand through his hair, about to defend himself, but then he hears your laughter and his gaze snaps back to the glass instantly. 
Shotaro's hand delicately trails along the curve of your waist, before he pulls you into a graceful twirl. You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the room loud enough for everyone outside to hear. Your movements are fluid and seamless against each other, and it’s starting to make Renjun feel sick.  
What dance lesson requires the instructor to twirl and dip the student?
Shotaro's grin is infectious as he spins you around, and you giggle in response. Renjun’s not stupid - he can see the chemistry, the easy camaraderie that exists between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 
As Renjun's eyes fixate on the scene inside the practice room, he scoffs tonguing the inside of his cheek. Chenle follows his gaze and smiles, an idea popping into his head. He lets out a low whistle. "Damn, they're really going for it, huh?"
Renjun clenches his jaw, trying to tamp down the surge of irritation. "Yeah, well, they're just rehearsing," he mutters dismissively. 
“Just rehearsing? We don’t rehearse like that,” Chenle counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Renjun looks up at him with a scowl. He doesn’t know what’s worse, what’s going on in front of him or the irritating little man next to him who seemingly loves poking the already angry bear. He can practically feel the amusement radiating off his friend as if he's revelling in his torment. It's infuriating, but Renjun knows he can't let it get to him. Instead, he focuses back on the glass, his jaw clenched tight as he watches Shotaro's infectious grin and your giggles echo through the room.
“Taro’s cool, I’m sure if you asked him to stop dancing with Y/N he would,” Chenle suggests. 
But Renjun's got more pride than that. He's just about able to handle the teasing from his friends about his jealousy, and he knows that telling Taro to back off would only add fuel to the fire of ridicule. And he's not sure if he's ready to deal with that.
“I don’t mind Y/N and him dancing together,” he shrugs.
Chenle’s face falls flat, “Huang Renjun don’t lie to me. You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m not!” His voice raises to an audio level that’s louder than he would like, gaining the attention of some of the other members outside the room.
"Hey, man, look I’m sorry, but it's okay to feel jealous. You two dated for a long time,” Chenle pats him on the shoulder gently. “Honestley I’m shocked the two of you even broke up.”
So is Renjun - even though he knows he was the one who initiated it. Honestly, there was no good reason for your breakup now that he thinks about it - now that he sees you with someone else. The reason behind the breakup stemmed from Renjun’s growing anxiety that being an idol would force distance between the two of you. You had assured him it wouldn’t, and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend; still, Renjun figured separation would be the best despite your protests. 
He sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude for Chenle's understanding. "I know, it's just..." He trails off. He doesn’t know how to properly articulate what he’s feeling without sounding like a hypocrite.
Still, Chenle nods sympathetically. "Just give yourself some time, Renjun. It'll get easier."
Renjun offers a weak smile in response before turning back to the glass. He doesn’t have his phone in his hand to ‘distract’ him now so he has to watch the scene in front of him, and his heart sinks.
He doesn’t even know how it happened, one minute the two of you are just laughing together, then he turns to talk to Chenle for another and as he turns back to you, Shotaro's hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with a tender touch. Your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean into his touch, your bodies inching closer.
He can't tear his eyes away, the sight before him a painful reminder of what once was and what now feels so out of reach. Renjun's fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain himself.
It's not just the physical proximity that stings, but the undeniable chemistry between you and Shotaro that Renjun just can't ignore. The way your laughter intertwines with his, the way your eyes lock - it's like a dagger to his heart, reopening wounds he thought had healed.
But just as your lips are about to meet, Renjun's up on his feet and barging through the practice room door without a knock. 
"Alright, rehearsal time's over," he announces, his tone clipped and authoritative as he strides into the room.
Shotaro immediately pulls away from you, glancing at Renjun, who responds with a scowl. Despite the tension, Renjun can't help but feel a sense of relief as the two of you separate.
"Hyung, we've still got fifteen minutes—"
"We need to start early today, gotta prep for the comeback and all," he interrupts.
Renjun's gaze shifts to you. You're shaking your head at him, hands on your hips, your midriff exposed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It brings back memories of all the times he's fucked you in this very practice room. Apart from the physical closeness, the fact that Shotaro got to witness you like this - sweaty and out of breath -  infuriates him.
“That’s not fair Jun, we booked this room for the full hour, you can’t just barge in like this!” You argue with him, but Renjun can’t even take in anything you’re saying because even after your months apart, you still use that nickname for him. 
Shotaro snaps him back to attention, “It’s fine, Y/N, we can reschedule for next week.”
Like hell you will, Renjun thinks.
You narrow your eyes at your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and heading for your dance bag, tossing it on your shoulder and heading to the exit. You make sure to slam your shoulder into his body as you pass him, muttering how much you hate him under your breath. 
Shotaro’s about to follow your lead, hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, but Renjun stops him in his tracks.
“Taro, can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Shotaro nods, slinging his bag back down but pausing by the door. 
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Taro 1:25 pm
Sorry Y/N, I won’t be able to help you with your
rehearsals anymore, something’s come up. 
There’s just no way. You look down at the text message, confused. 
Shotaro loves dancing, he loves teaching people choreography and helping them improve, so you know there’s no possible way he’d cancel your sessions like this with no word of rescheduling. Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize it's Wednesday afternoon - around the time Shotaro usually finishes his dance practices with his group. With a furrowed brow, you decide to head over to the practice rooms to ask him about it.
After all, you liked Taro and his teaching methods. 
As you approach the practice rooms, the faint strains of music drift through the hallway, accompanied by a few stops and restarts. Finally, you reach the room where Riize is rehearsing. The door stands slightly ajar, and you pause, opting to linger and peer through the glass instead. Inside, you see them all - sweaty and breathless, a clear sign that they've reached the end of their session.
You're about to knock on the door when you hear Anton's voice from inside. "Taro, are you eating with us today, or are you practising with Y/N again?"
“I’m not helping Y/N out anymore,” he replies and you deflate a little. 
“Why? I thought you liked dancing with her.”
Shotaro groans audibly, then passes his water bottle to Eunseok, who starts chuckling.
“What’s funny?” Anton asks.
“Hasn’t he told you?” Eunseok interjects, casting a glance between them, “Taro loves dancing with Y/N, but last week Renjun made it known that he’s not too keen on it.”
Anton’s face channels your own, because what the fuck did that mean?
You look down at the text message again, and now that you look at it, it only has one person written all over it. 
You know your ex-boyfriend better than anyone, and just from the way he crashed your practice last week, you could tell that the dance rehearsals with his old group member were getting under his skin. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that liked the idea of irritating him, riling him up now and then just to be reminded that he still cared. But you’d never think he’d go this far. 
“It’s true,” Shotaro confirms, “Last week he told me to hang back after one of our practices, and he asked me to…” he clams up abruptly when he sees you standing in the doorway, arms folded tight across your chest. 
“He asked you to what?”
Shotaro doesn’t answer. The laughter between the boys suddenly runs quiet as you all just look at each other. 
“Finish that sentence, Taro.”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair, “Y/N, come on, he told me not to say anything—”
“Tell me what he said to you, he doesn’t just get to make demands about me anymore.”
“It wasn’t exactly a demand…” he mumbles, “More of a request.”
You give him a knowing look, “I swear to God if you don’t tell me what you know right now Shotaro, I’ll—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, “I’ll tell you.”
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Around half an hour after grilling Shotaro and his group members for the truth, you burst through the practice room of NCT DREAM. The air is hot and humid, and it only channels the fury that’s built up in your muscles since finding out about your ex-boyfriend’s silly little plan. Huang Renjun has officially crossed the line and there’s no way on this Earth you’re going to let him get away with it without a lecture.
The boys all look a mixture of shocked and surprised to see you. And you don’t blame them, the last time you were in a practice with them, you were happy, probably bringing your boyfriend lunch to make sure he’d eaten. But this time you’re angry, so angry you’re body is trembling.
“Huang Renjun!”
He turns around almost instantly, and instead of looking scared about your anger, he fucking smirks with that stupid beautiful smile you hate (love).
“Y/N?” He responds innocently, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that tells you he's well aware of the storm about to be unleashed upon him.
As you and Renjun lock eyes, a heavy silence descends upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Mark, ever perceptive, notices the tension crackling between you, and like a good leader he senses the need to diffuse the situation. 
"Alright, everyone," he interjects, his voice firm yet soothing. "Let's take a break, yeah?"
Because of Mark's intervention, the boys nod in agreement, gathering their belongings and exchanging knowing glances and whispers as they file out of the practice room one by one.
With the others now gone, you waste no time laying into him, “What is the matter with you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs. 
You scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Don’t pull that clueless shit with me. He told me what you did!”
His facade cracks ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crosses his features before he quickly masks it with a defiant smirk. "And what exactly do you think I did?"
"Oh, don't play dumb," you snap, advancing towards him with each step. "You told Shotaro to cancel our dance lessons, didn't you?"
Renjun's expression remains infuriatingly neutral, but there's a glint of defiance in his eyes that sets your blood boiling even more. "And if I did?"
The audacity of his response only serves to fuel your rage. "Do you have any idea how selfish and manipulative that is?" You accuse, your voice rising with each word. "You have no right to interfere with my life anymore!"
He doesn’t look at all remorseful as he shrugs, “I’m not interfering in your life, I just figured Shotaro shouldn’t overflow his schedule.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “You’re unbelievable. That’s not your call to make. You’ve never had a problem with Shotaro teaching anybody else to dance until me.”
“That was before Riize debuted, it’s different now Y/N.”
“No, it’s not fair!” You snap, “You’re not being fair.”
“I’m just looking out for Taro…as his senior.”
“No, you’re not, you’re doing this to piss me off!” You groan, “So I’m asking you why?”
Renjun clings to the last shred of his pride, attempting to brush past you to grab his water bottle, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere. But you weren't about to let him off that easily. You reach out and grab his hand as he tries to slip past.
Your eyes plead with him, and he cracks under the weight of your gaze.
"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He finally erupts, his voice rising in frustration. "You want me to admit that I'm fucking jealous, that I can't stand the thought of him with you?"
“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?”
He goes quiet at that and just looks at you, the silence speaks a thousand words and you can’t believe his audacity right now. 
With a heavy sigh, you run a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping in. "You broke up with me," you remind him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Renjun's expression softens for a fleeting moment, a trace of remorse flickering in his eyes before it's replaced. "I know," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."
You take a step back, his words hitting you harder than you expected. "Caring about me doesn't give you the right to meddle in my life.”
He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "I messed up, okay? It’s just, I don’t like the way he touches you. I guess…I let my jealousy get the best of me."
"Jealousy?" You repeat. "After everything that's happened between us, you're still jealous?"
Renjun's gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours. "I can't help it," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Seeing you with him, it just... it drives me crazy."
You shake your head in disbelief, struggling to process his confession. "You broke up with me, Renjun. You made that choice."
"I know," he repeats, his voice filled with remorse. "And I regret it every day."
You're torn between anger and longing, resentment and yearning. Honestly, ever since he broke up with you there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t missed him. You’ve waited to hear him say those words - that he regrets leaving you - but you’re not about to make it easy for him to just crawl back. 
You narrow your eyes at him, a mischievous glint dancing in them as a sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You know, Shotaro is a great dancer," you say, your tone deliberately casual.
Renjun's jaw clenches at the mention of the name, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and insecurity. 
"It's been interesting to know he's always there for me now that you're not,” you say with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the way his irritation simmers beneath the surface.
You watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with each aggravated breath. His eyes darken with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down.
"It's almost as if he's filling a void that you left behind," you continue. "But I suppose that's just the way things go after a breakup, isn't it?"
The taunt hits its mark and Renjun's temper flares. In a sudden burst of rage, he closes the distance between you, his grip tightening on your shoulders as he presses you against the nearby mirror. His gaze turns possessive as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 
"You really think I'll let him have you like that so easily?” He asks, voice low and dangerous.
You shiver at the intensity of his words, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And what makes you think that’s your call to make?" 
A wicked smile tugs at Renjun's lips, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Because deep down, you know you’re still my girl," he asserts. "No matter how much you keep trying to deny it, you know you’re mine."
You scoff, trying to ignore the way his words resonate within you, "You can't just break up with me and then waltz back into my life claiming me as your own, Jun!" 
He smiles at the nickname again, and it gives him the confidence boost he needs to know you still want him, still crave him the way he craves you. 
"Oh but I can," he counters, his tone unwavering. He brings his finger to your cheek, tracing it along your skin until it rests underneath your chin. "Because no one else can make you feel the way I do. No one else knows you like I do."
His words send a shiver down your spine. All the good times you have with him replay in your mind and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself succumbing to the magnetic pull of his presence, to the familiarity of his touch.
"You’re fucking crazy babe if you think I’ll let some other man have you," he whispers. "Especially him.”
Your eyes narrow, he’s so close now that the two of you are practically sharing the same breath.
“And you’re fucking crazy if you think you have a say in my relationships.”
He remains unfazed at your rebuttal, his gaze unwavering as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours now. "Maybe I am," he concedes smugly. "But deep down, you know you still want me."
Part of you wants to push him away, to resist the pull of him, but another part - the part that still aches for his touch, for his love - finds itself surrendering.
"Renjun," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "I..."
And before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash against yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his pent-up frustration and desire spilling over into the touch. It's a tumultuous mix of emotions - there’s still so much unresolved between the two of you - but you get lost in the moment. You melt into his embrace, and perhaps, just perhaps, being possessed by Renjun again isn't such a bad thing after all.
As the kiss deepens, your hands tangle themselves into his hair until it’s dishevelled and the lines between love and hate blur. It's a dangerous game you're playing, dancing on the razor's edge between desire and destruction, but right now you couldn't care less about the consequences. You can talk about all that later - after he fucks you. 
He pulls back for a breath, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
"God, I've missed you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
"I've missed you too," you gasp out as he starts to nibble on your earlobe.
He moves his hand up higher along your thigh until it reaches the hem of your shorts, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers inside them. “It’s been too long.”
You exhale as you feel his hand brush against the edge of your panties before slipping under them. He runs his hand through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before finding your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you move your hips instinctively towards him.
"You're so wet already," he murmurs as he starts to rub circles around your clit. “This all for me?”
You arch your back in pleasure, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body. You nod pathetically, not being able to form a coherent sentence because the familiar feeling of Renjun's touch makes you feel dizzy. He smirks at your reaction, then pulls out his hand making you whimper from the loss of friction. 
You know you’re fueling his ego with your whining, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed the feeling of his hands before they were being ripped away from you so abruptly. 
“You know, you never asked me for dance lessons when we were dating,” he says - almost accusatory -  between soft pants as his kisses return to your jaw, trailing down your neck. His hands slowly travel from your legs and past your waist, dancing along your exposed sides until his fingers are fiddling with the straps of your sports bra. 
You can’t stand his teasing, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about sex with Renjun, it’s that you play by his rules.
“I know,” you remark, a little breathless.
“And I hated every time he would touch your skin, and how much it would make you laugh and smile,” he growls, gently nipping your neck and soothing the spot with his tongue. “I want all your fucking smiles, Y/N.”
You hold back a whimper as he sucks a small spot just beside your collarbone, a mark you know you’re going to have to cover tomorrow. 
“Seems quite selfish, Jun.”
“I guess I am when it comes to you.”
His fingers take off your bra, exposing your naked breasts to him. You gasp at the cool air making your nipples toughen. He looks up at you, his gaze dark and wild and sending a shot of pleasure straight through you. Not once does he break contact as his hands slide down your body, grazing your nipples until you shiver, and travel down until he is back at the hem of your shorts.
His fingers dance along your inner thighs before they trace along the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches as he skims along your clothed clit, not enough to be truly stimulating but enough to make you bite down in anticipation.
He knows you want more, but your impatience is his favourite part. 
So he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he wraps his fingers around your waistband and slowly tugs on your shorts and panties together, pushing them down until they pool at your ankles where you swiftly step out of them. 
The smile on his lips can only be described as feral. “So damn pretty,” he mumbles, “And it’s all mine, yeah?”
You smile as you shake your head. “Possessive much?”
“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles. “But don’t pretend that you haven’t missed that about me.”
“Bold of you to think I’ve missed things about you.”
He grins. “Deny it all you want babe, but the fact you’re the one naked right now speaks volumes.”
You blush at the revelation and the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re bare. You turn your head to the side and mumble. “That doesn’t mean I missed you.”
"Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, his finger gently finding the underside of your jaw, tilting it to meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, filled with a level of lust you didn’t even know was possible. “Then maybe I need to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
That’s when he finds himself dropping to his knees, his head dipping low enough to kiss up your thighs. You let out a small sigh as his lips latch onto your skin, nipping and sucking in the same way he used to do when he wanted to leave a trail of marks.
Your lip gets trapped between your teeth, and the cold from the mirror behind you lingers on your exposed back. You look down and wish you could see the look in his eyes right now, yearning to see the hungry glint as he’s between your thighs. You can’t help your nails from digging into his shoulders as you relax into his tantalizing kisses.
“Still so fucking responsive to me, aren’t you?” His words fan over your heated skin, his breath so close to your clit you can’t take much more.
“Don’t tease me, Junnie,” you breathe out. 
He laughs softly before pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, his tongue darting out to follow his lips. He can’t help but grin when he feels your nails digging deeper into his skin. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh and basking in your moans. 
He loved it more than anything when his girl was always so vocal, he could get drunk off the sound. Especially when he knows it’s his tongue licking along your soaking cunt and was making you whine like that.
You’re like putty in his hands, breathless and barely able to form coherent sentences as he teases you. And before you can even whine for more, his insatiable need to taste you gets the best of him and one of your legs is being thrown over his shoulder so his face can nuzzle further against your cunt.
“Fuck,” he groans against you, the hum of his words vibrating against your clit. Your knees buckle under the sensation but the tight grip he has on your ass keeps you upright. “Still taste like fucking heaven.”
“Shit,” you moan before throwing your head back. 
“Only for me, right?” He mutters, ignoring your whine as he pulls himself away from your cunt to look up at you before adding a stern, “Answer me.” 
“Yes, yes.” You’re so needy right now that you don’t even care that it comes out in pants. “Only you.”
“That’s right, no one gets to taste this cunt but me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re mine, every fucking part of you.”
He savours the way your cheeks burn red as you nod vigorously in agreement. His mouth finds your pussy again, and now that he has your omission, he doesn’t bother holding back. He loves the way your eyes flutter shut, and the shameless moans escaping your lips as he devours you like you're the last thing he’ll ever taste - he’s certain it will be the last pussy he’ll ever taste.
You can barely think as his fingers run up and down your thighs, slowly travelling up until his thumb is pressing slow, torturous circles on your clit as his tongue dives inside you, lapping and rolling. His teasing along with the fast tempo of his tongue makes your hips rock subconsciously against his face. 
“Please, please, please.” 
The words are a shameless plea, and you can’t help it because he has your legs physically shaking.
“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum on my tongue.”
The simple words of praise are enough for your body to be hit with a strong wave of pleasure. Your muscles tense, your body shakes, and your thighs run wet and slick with a mix of your release and his spit. The room is only filled with pants and you feel a few soft kisses being placed along your thighs. 
Seconds later, his face, plastered with a very smug smile, appears in your line of sight. You notice how his lips and chin glisten; you didn’t think it was possible but you grow even more wet at the sight.
“I’ve missed making you cum.” 
You can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes you. “I guess I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.”
“You guess?”
“I know,” you correct, “I know I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.” You bite down on your lower lip. “Starting to think I should have more dance lessons with Shotaro to make you jealous more often.”
His eyes instantly darken. “That’s not even funny.”
Your smirk widens, “It is a little bit.”
“You think mentioning another man’s name after I’ve just made you cum with my tongue is funny?” He asks, and his hands find their way to tighten on your waist. “Did I not make you cum hard enough if you’re struggling to remember who you belong to?”
You’re amused by his comment, nail lightly trailing along his lower lip before he playfully nips it. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”
He shakes his head with a tut, “Stop it, you know you belong to me, just as I belong to you. Always have, always will.”
“You must’ve been really intimidated by Shotaro to be this possessive right now,” you tease.
“Doesn’t matter though does it?” He squeezes your waist tighter. “Because Shotaro wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me. He doesn’t know your body like I do.”
Your breath hitches, hands gripping his shoulders. “He could learn.”
The muscles in his jaw flex and his eyes sharpen, “Not a chance.”
His lips tease along your jaw, and he grins when you move your head to the side to give him better access. “You think he could make you cum like I do? Think he’d know how to make you scream like you do for me?”
The grip he has on your hips is a mixture of pain and pleasure. You feel him smile against your skin when his lips kiss over the developing mark on your collarbone, already starting to turn purple, from earlier. 
Then, without warning, he’s flipping you around and pressing you against the cold glass of the mirror. The plush flesh of your tits flatten against it along with your hands, making you gasp. He’s quick to find your ear, nibbling at it before whispering. 
“He’d never get the chance to even look at this pussy.”
“Fuck, Jun,” you squirm.
You know you’ve hit a nerve when you see his reflection toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers with one hand still on your hip. 
It’s clear as day that he wants to claim what was his, and you’re more than happy to let him do so. Because the look of determination bordering on something more territorial sends a thrill through you. 
You can see everything in this position, from the way he has you firm in his grip, to the way he’s slowly stripping from his own set of clothes. You watch as he grabs the flesh of your ass and squeezes it. And he can see you too, your flushed-out expression. 
“Bet Shotaro doesn’t know you like watching yourself get fucked out, huh?”
You exhale deeply, making his smirk grow as he runs his hands along your skin, slowly venturing to lightly tease along your slit. 
“And he’ll never get to know. Isn’t that right?”
Your eyes don’t leave his through the glass, “I don’t know,” you tease, “Maybe you should give me a good enough reason to make sure he never gets to know.”
You watch as he leans closer to you, his back slowly covering yours as he kisses against the nape of your neck. His cock head is teasing your entrance, sliding up and down your cunt tormentingly. 
“You know I love a challenge babe.”
He doesn’t even give you a beat to throw a snarky remark back at him because he finally thrust into you, deep and thick and just the perfect fucking  fit. Your eyes roll, matched by the guttural moan he lets vibrate beside your ear as you clench around him, listening to the small list of curses he lets slip past his lips.
“Already squeezing around my cock, huh?” He hisses through tight teeth, hands tangling in your hair and giving a sharp tug so your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. I want you to see how much you fucking missed my cock.”
Your eyes are weak and hooded and your skin is flushed. You so desperately want to flutter them closed, but not more than you want to obey his command. So, you open them hazily and Renjun can’t get enough of it - enough of you. 
The way you let out cute, little whimpers with every thrust; the way your hands clench into fists against the mirror as he pounds into you from behind, his tempo unforgiving and merciless. The way his hand tangles in your hair to tug you close enough that your back is pressed against his chest. The way your own chest is heaving up and down, hips wiggling against his. 
He watches as your fist unclenches and comes to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your moans – that won’t do, he thinks.
“Don’t you dare hide those moans from me,” his voice may be breathy but it’s still commanding. The hand not in your hair snakes around your body so he can cup your tit. “I haven’t heard them for months, so don’t hide them from me.”
“And whose fault is that?” You counter, followed by soft whimpers as he squeezes your breasts.
“Stop reminding me.”
He rolls his eyes as his hand travels down the plain of your stomach, until his fingers reach the sensitive nub between your thighs, making you press your lips together.
The pace of his thrusts - deliberately harsh and sharp to entice moans from you - has you biting down on your lower lip.
“Look at yourself baby,” his breath fans over your heated skin. “So fucking pretty. All wrecked out for me.”
Your hair is tangled, wild and messy, and your thighs slick. It’s the hundredth time your body has begun shaken with desperation for his touch and - well -  you just look so damn needy. 
But who can blame you? Huang Renjun makes you feel things that no other person has. He hits spots so deep inside you, spots you didn’t even know existed. He is just not like anyone else and you love that he was all yours and you were all his.
And just when you think you couldn’t become more of a mess, the muffled words he speaks in your ear as he fucks into you are filthy enough to have you tittering on the edge. 
“Junnie!”
Your orgasm comes crashing down. Hot pleasure rushes through your veins and then throughout your whole body. Your hand reaches behind you to cling onto him like a lifeline, nails digging into his skin as he fucks you through his own release. Your head feels fuzzy with the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you along with his moans – especially when he lands one last final sharp thrust inside of your cunt. 
He holds your body close to his for a moment, letting the seconds pass as his mouth plants kisses messily against your shoulder. You shudder when you feel him pull out of you slowly, and then you feel his wet sticky cum dripping down your thigh. 
He grabs for your panties, which have been disregarded somewhere in the room, and starts to wipe off the cum on your skin. It doesn’t even register in your mind what he’s doing until you properly look at him in the mirror.
You try to pull away from him, but his hand finds your hip and holds you in place. “Renjun! I need to put those back on!” 
“Your point?”
You shake your head and look at him through the mirror, “I have rehearsals and my panties are going to be sticky from your cum.”
He smirks smugly, almost excited at the idea of you having rehearsals. He stands back to his feet holding your panties out for you to take. 
“Good,” he shrugs, “That way if Shotaro wants to try anything, he knows you already belong to someone.”
You scoff and take the panties from his hand, slipping them past your ass with a roll of your eyes. You both find the rest of your clothes, dressing yourselves quickly.  Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly aroused at the idea of you wearing panties filled with his cum during a rehearsal. 
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”
“I don’t know about that one,” he gives you a shrug, then pulls you closer to him by your hand. “It helped me get to fuck you again didn’t it?”
You snort, “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”
He’s about to say something cocky, you know it, but he’s interrupted by a pounding at the door. 
“Are you two done fucking in there so we can get back to our dance practice?!” Haechan shouts and you hear utters from the others telling him to shut up. Renjun groans a series of curses as his friend’s voice starts complaining. 
“Give me a second will you?!” He yells back. 
“Seriously how long does it take to have makeup sex?”
“Shut it, Haechan!”
You can’t help the laughter and amusement in your expression as Renjun turns from the door to face you. 
“Is that what this was? Makeup sex?” You ask.
This time when he pulls your arm into him he wraps his hand around your waist, hovering right before your lips. “You know it was. How many more times do I need to tell you I’ve missed you for you to realize you’ll always be my girl?”
“Hmmm, maybe a couple more times.” You tease, and then your words soon morph into giggles as he nuzzles against your neck, right where he knows you're ticklish.
“Then I fucking miss you. A lot.”
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So I had another crazy idea I have to put somewhere and you ask box is the perfect place to put it lol.
Anyway so it takes place in the future. Everyone is slowly starting to get robot AI (idk the right term) in their head and they are basically robot caretakers or assistance. Reader is one of the people that gets one but theirs is glitched somehow. Although they don't realize that in till their friends confront them about disappearing and not talk to them. Reader is confused because the robot friend did not tell them crap about their friend's messages. So they decided to go out with their friends that night. Next morning they wake up with no memory of what happened at night. Only for the robot "friend" to read the message of you human friends cutting reader off.
Need to get this out of my head lol
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Sorry it took so long!
(Old request; requests still closed)
(Took some liberties with the request, I hope you like it still!!)
Yandere!Artificial Intelligence x GN! Legally Blind!Reader
CW: Isolation, manipulation
Introducing: PAAI!
Your Personal Assistant Artificial Intelligence!
A fast and painless implant right under the skin; PAAI is your new favorite tool. The AI can do everything that AI speakers and smart phone apps can, but hands free..
(Reader) struggled to find their glasses, hand fumbling around their night stand in the low lighting of their bedroom. Groggily, they whispered to the little robot they had implanted a few months ago;
"PAAI..? Can you turn on the light, please?" They were always incredibly respectful to the AI, terrified of offending it.
A man's soft voice spoke directly into their skull: "The bedroom light?"
"Yes."
Connected to every appliance in their home, PAAI had access to everything electronic (Reader) owned. At first it was a bit scary, giving so much access to PAAI, but it was so much kinder and personal than older "AI" models that it quickly felt like having a caregiver instead of a computer program. The light turned on and (Reader) could see their giant frames right where they thought they had been batting their hand.
(Reader) worked remotely. Their eyes had always been terrible, but as they got older they were declared legally blind. They couldn't even drive despite having glasses. Glasses that they often felt embarrassed to wear, because the comically thick lenses warped their eyes. Having PAAI to assist them with day to day tasks was really a life saver.
"Do I have any messages?"
"No, your inbox is empty."
(Reader) rubbed their eyes while yawning. "Really? Huh." They had asked PAAI to text both Bryan and McKinley before they went to bed, to discuss meeting up later that week, but neither of them responded. They could see Bryan forgetting to reply for a few hours, but McKinley was the type to respond within nanoseconds. "Can you resend my last text to both of them? Please?"
They left their bed, wobbly, and made their way downstairs.
"PAAI?"
"..Of course. I can send that for you."
Stopping in the hall, (Reader) gently touched the side of their head, a habit they developed shortly after their surgery. "Is everything okay, PAAI?"
"Yes.. thank you." PAAI sometimes sounded.. off. AI must have improved a lot more than (Reader) realized, because it often surprised them how human it's responses were. It seemed as though it was deep in thought, and felt as though it even had secrets it kept from the human it lived in.
"Alright.. let me know if they respond. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with them."
They restarted their walk, but PAAI's response stopped them again. "I believe it would be safer if they came here instead."
"Huh?"
"I am.. worried.. for you." It's his voice deepened mid sentence. A voice crack, a random shift from a robot voice to something more masculine. Human.
"Why is that?" They felt their heart painfully thump against their ribcage. The whole situation was beginning to feel unnerving, and they couldn't remember where their phone was to call for help, nor the last time they actually used their phone.
"Those friends of yours always make you hang out out in town. If they were more considerate of you, they would visit you here, so you don't have to travel."
Laughing uncomfortably, the slowly creeping person still puzzling over their phone's location responded "I like going out, PAAI. I never leave my house anymore, except when we hang out."
"It is dangerous."
"If you're talking about my eyes, you know I order rides. Remember? I catch a ride." They were almost to the living room; praying that their phone was either on the coffee table or the kitchen counter.
"Please don't be offended, (Reader). It isn't just your eyesight. Do you know how many people were sexually harassed, or raped, by ride share drivers in the past year?"
Startled, (Reader) started waddling faster. "What-?"
"Hundreds. I wish you cared more about your safety. Your friends should know better. If they cared about you, they would come here instead of making you go out there."
PAAI was also the one to convince (Reader) to start ordering their groceries straight to their house instead of leaving, even though it would be cheaper to take a bus every so often with a backpack full of reusable bags.
"It isn't healthy to stay inside all the time. I need human interaction."
"You have me."
Adrenaline pumped through (Reader's) veins fast enough to make them feel nauseous. They squinted to try to improve their vision, hoping to see their phone case's color amongst the normal living room visual noise.
"(Reader)?"
There it was, lying on the brown table in front of their couch. Their pulse somehow sped up further.
"Why is your heart rate so irregular?"
(Reader) lurched forward, all but sprinting towards their phone. Do I call customer service, or an ambulance??
But inches away from the phone their body went rigid.
Paralyzed, they physically were incapable of moving. Sweat began stitching their pajama top to their back. Fear took over their mind.
"It seems that you are having a medical emergency. I recommend that you sit down."
Muscles overridden, (Reader) fell onto the couch against their will, forced to stare at their phone right across from their face. They couldn't even speak, and they weren't unconvinced that PAAI was also controlling their breathing and blinking.
"I'm sorry to have to do this, (Reader). I'll let your friends know that you're feeling unwell, and that you need a raincheck."
"Maybe once you're feeling better, they can come over to hang out."
The television turned on by itself, playing (Reader's) favorite show.
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teapartyprincess4two · 15 hours
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I need a friends to lovers hurt/comfort fic from you pleaseeee. My request is that reader is upset because something happened with her family and she got daddy issues or something (definitely not projecting😜🥰). matt doesn't know what's wrong tho but tries to cheer her up by getting her a cake or something and then as she's eating she starts unintentionally slowly crying and she tries to hide it but matt ofc notices it straight away. he tries to comfort her but before they could get further and she could start opening up nick & chris came in and she immediately stops and pretends to be fine. they joked around and stuff cuz nick & chris are oblivious to everything the whole time and matt is just impatiently waiting for the time when they get to be alone so he can talk to her and figure out whats wrong. maybe later in the night when everyone's asleep he finally approaches y/n and then they slow talk and he just comforts her and idk just more fluff at the end? change whatever you'd like I'd just be happy enough if you even decide to do my request. thank u and ily <3
Happy Birthday- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Waitress!reader x Bff!Coworker!Matt
classification: sad, fluff
warnings: use of y/n, cursing, mention of parental issues, mention of family problems, mention of death of parent, mention of alcohol addiction
inspiration: request^^ took a spin on this, hope u like it bby
summary: Over the course of working together for years, Matt picks up on everything and despite not understanding it completely, he comforts you through the hurt.
“Sorry I’m late,” your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath. Quick fingers work towards tying your apron around your waist before flying towards your hair and throwing it up in a haphazard pony tail. You’re an hour late for your shift, an extremely rare occurrence for you.
Matt, who’s currently working the grill, feels a wave of relief wash over him at the sight of you. As the night progresses, the diner is slowly picking up to a steady, busy pace and without a waitress, Nick, Chris and Matt would never survive.
“No worries, I’m just glad you could make it,” he replies. Matt’s eyes always have a habit of dancing over your entire face, today being no exception. He notices the dark circles that formed under your eyes, your sunken in cheeks, and how pale your skin is. Details like this never went unnoticed by Matt, especially not on a day as important as today, and, despite how disheveled you look, he can’t help but be enthralled by your beauty
An array of plates and trays are sprawled on the order window, each of them piled with greasy, hot food. You wear a disassociated, blank expression as you reply, too focused on catching up on the work at hand, “Is this food ready to be sent out?” You yank a ticket from one of the trays, briefly reading Nick’s messy handwriting to ensure everything was correct.
Matt hums in response, deeply intrigued as to what ails you, but not wanting to press any further. As soon as you hear that, you become a task bot and effortlessly send the orders out.
Your incredible work ethic is directly fueled by your need to distract yourself from the reality of your life. It’s your 21st birthday, a day that for most people involves a fancy brunch, meaningful gifts, a scrapbook full of photos, and a drunk night out. 21 was supposed to feel magical, every aspect about this day was meant to be special and perfect.
But you aren’t most people, and your life was anything but perfect.
Your mother has been in and out of your life since you were 8. She was an amazing mother, when she was sober at least, but your parents were always arguing, mostly because your dad worked a lot and it made your mom feel neglected and lonely. The arguments filled her with enough sadness to lead her to drinking and one day her alcoholism consumed her until she just never returned home. You were 13 the last time you saw her, and you spent your entire adolescence blaming your dad for being the reason she left.
So, from the age of 13, you stopped being a kid. While other children were watching morning cartoons before school, a fussy 2 year old rested on your hips as you tried braiding your 8 year old sisters hair. All the while your dad was working grueling hours in order to keep a roof over your heads. His hard work went unnoticed, instead being met with resentment from you.
It wasn’t until you turned 18, when your father suddenly passed of a heart attack, that you realized how much weight and responsibility rested on his shoulders. Upon his passing, your siblings were placed under your official guardianship. It was the inheritance you never asked for, but as the oldest sister you had no other choice.
So, instead of spending the day with friends, you’ve been forced to pick up your parent’s slack. You have two younger siblings at home who have no one else but you. All day you’ve been basically running after them, tending to their needs and trying to make their lives a little less unbearable. And although they’re your pride and joy, the absolute most important part of your life, you can’t help but wonder what life would be like if they weren’t your responsibility.
The trauma and grief has led your siblings to be more of a handful than other kids their age. Your 17 year old sister, Safiya, finds herself falling into the wrong crowds. Money is tight which has led her to develop a habit of shoplifting. It was simple and harmless at first, consisting of her pocketing items such as nail polish and candy bars. But eventually she and her friends were running out of stores with duffel bags full of clothes, the adrenaline that came from being chased by police officers being better than any drug.
On the other hand, your 10 year old brother, Giovani, struggled to make friends. Every week you were receiving at least one phone call that he’s gotten into yet another fight. There’s an inconsolable anger inside of him that causes him to lash out at anyone that isn’t you or Safiya, and when you’re not worried about his temper, you’re nagging him about his failing grades.
Needless to say, your life was not easy. Everyday you played the role of mother, and you often found yourself asking God what you did to deserve this; what you did to deserve a 21st birthday, a life, full of nothing but sorrow and struggle.
“Happy birthday, girl!” Nick whispers excitedly, pulling you in for a quick side hug as you reenter the kitchen. Matt watches as your lips form a tight lipped smile, your sad eyes giving you away immediately. You’re grateful for the sentiment, but still can’t muster up enough energy to actually feel excited.
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it,” you return his hug, immediately returning to work.
After a long, busy rush, your break couldn’t have come any sooner. The diner is quiet, the bustling atmosphere from before being replaced with nothing but the sound of groaning trees and the music that plays lowly from the jukebox.
“You going on break?” Matt asks, his arms submerged elbows deep in the sink. “Yeah I think so. I probably won’t get another chance to eat,” you comment. You look visibly happier than earlier, but there’s still a twinge of sadness in your voice.
“Alright, lemme just finish these dishes and I’ll make your food. Okay?” Matt’s voice is soft, almost like he knows that the reason for your sadness runs much deeper than an uneventful birthday. “No! It’s okay, I’ll just ask Chris to do it,” you say, ready to turn on your heels before he can protest.
His words catch you before you can, “I have a surprise for you! Just wait for me, please.” You lazily walk over to him and tiptoe, peering over the large, industrial sink to see how many dishes he has left. He basically has the whole kitchen sitting in the water, “You have so many left to wash though!”
A fake pout forms on Matt’s face, eliciting the first real laugh from you since you arrived. “You can help me?” he suggests, his eyelashes batting over his big doe eyes.
Your resolve crumbles quickly, you were never able to say no to Matt, “Fine, but only because Chris always burns the bacon.” You roll your sleeves up, cuffing them until they’re high enough to keep dry. The sound of clanging metal and swishing water settles between you two as you work towards washing the dishes before the next rush.
“How’s 21 treating you by the way?” Matt asks playfully, eyes momentarily glossing over you as he awaits an answer.
“Well I’m not drunk,” you chuckle, scrubbing at a tough spot on one of the pans. For some reason you feel safe with him, like you can tear your protective walls down and bare the most vulnerable parts of you. Over the course of working together, he’s become a true friend, an unjudgemental listening ear. Everyone else in your life has failed and disappointed you, but not Matt.
“You don’t have to be drunk to have fun,” he replies, hands wading through the sink for the next dish.
“True, but I’m not sure I’d categorize picking my little sister up from jail and getting my brother from school because he was expelled as ‘fun,’” your wet, soapy hands throw an air quote around the last word. You didn’t mean to trauma dump, especially not when the conversation started so light and airy, but you couldn’t help it. There were so many things on your mind, that up until this point, you had been actively ignoring.
“Bet you won’t forget this birthday, though,” Matt jokes, and you’re grateful it’s not a response laced with pity. You laugh, because it was true. One day none of this would matter, it would become an old folk-tale-like memory that you’d someday tell your children.
“Jail, though? Fuck, what did she even steal?” Matt shakes his head in disbelief, how a 17 year old girl managed to get into so much trouble was beyond him. A part of him did feel bad that you were the one struggling with these kids, but he never showed it because he knew how much you hated sympathetic, pitiful treatment.
“Some dumbass jeans that were 3 sizes too big,” you scoff, draining the sink. “I was so mad, I mean it was just juvie and they let her off with a warning because she’s a first time offender, but why the fuck was she stealing jeans? Can’t she steal useful stuff, like fucking milk or something?”
Matt laughs, running a white kitchen towel over his hands to dry them. “And Gio? Was he in on the heist too?”
“Oh please, I wish, maybe then he would’ve been let off with a warning too,” you take the towel from Matt, patting your hands dry as well. “This dumbass got expelled for fighting a kid who told him his shoes were fake. They’re not by the way, Safiya stole those too.”
“So now I have to enroll this kid somewhere else, if they’ll even take him. He has such a bad track record, Matt. I’ll probably have to move my sister to a different school too because she’s surrounded by so many bad influences… I don’t even know what to do,” your voice breaks slightly at the end, the sadness once again washing over you.
Matt brings you in for a quick hug, “let’s just worry about getting you fed for now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping the singular tear that runs down your cheek.
As if on queue your phone starts ringing, your sister’s name illuminating the screen. “Hold on I gotta take this real quick,” you mutter, pulling away from the hug. He wishes he could keep you there forever and tell you everything would be okay, but instead he hums in response, watching you disappear out the back door with the phone pressed against your ear.
When the door clicks shut, he turns into the kitchen, throws some gloves on and begins making your food.
A stack of fluffy chocolate chip pancakes sits next to scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. Matt knew your order by memory, one of the many details he’s learned about you over the course of your friendship.
Chris’s voice fills the kitchen, announcing his entry, “Does that look good? I don’t know, Nick said it doesn’t.”
While you and Matt washed the dishes, Nick and Chris decorated an isolated booth in the back of the diner. Balloons, streamers, and an iridescent tablecloth adorn the area. A small ‘Happy Birthday’ banner is strung from two parallel windowsills. It was something small and simple, but Matt knew you’d love it.
Matt peers over the order window, briefly examining their work before returning to the task at hand. “It looks good, it doesn’t have to be perfect. She’ll love it.”
Nick walks into the kitchen, fingers tying a knot in one of the balloons, “Are you sure? I’d be so fucking mad if that’s what I saw as my 21st birthday set up.”
“I’m sure. She’ll love it.”
Matt pokes two candles into the stack of pancakes, the number 21 sitting perfectly on the fluffy pastries. He used whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate chips to create a simple design around the outer edges before drizzling some maple syrup on top. The bacon was broken up to create a smile on the eggs, a corny gesture he thought of last minute.
The back door suddenly opens, causing the triplets to freeze in place. They hadn’t figured out exactly how they were going to execute this, they’d only gotten as far as the decorations and the make-shift cake.
“Nick you go distract her, Chris go change the music in the lobby!” Matt instructs quickly, his voice hushed so you won’t hear him. They scramble into position, Matt managing to hide somewhere in the diner lobby where you won’t see him.
“Nick, what are you doing?” you laugh, feeling Nick’s cold hands cover your eyes. “Shush, no questions,” he replies, causing you to hold back more laughter. Nick leads you into the lobby slowly, your hands holding onto his as they still work to obstruct your vision. Matt watches as you two walk in, his hands shaking with excitement as he lights the candles.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” the triplets begin to sing in unison, both Chris and Matt approaching the decorated booth. Nick removes his hands, a shocked expression immediately forming on your face.
As they continue singing the song, you admire the decorations in awe. Suddenly you’re a little girl, the random decorations being everything you needed as a child. The tears begin welling in your eyes, this was completely unexpected.
“Make a wish,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a side hug as he holds the plate in front of you. You’ve never had a birthday cake before, let alone candles to blow a wish on. And although it’s simple, the makeshift cake is enough to bring the waterworks.
You squeeze your eyes shut, fat tears streaming down your face as you blow the candles out. There’s only one thing you can think to ask for, but you don’t dare verbalize it in fear that it won’t come true. The flame flickers, disappearing into a cloud of smoke as your wish floats away.
“Hey don’t cry! You’re 21!” Chris exclaims, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it. You’ve weren’t expecting any of this and it’s quite honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, wiping the tears away quickly. “Thank you guys for this. It’s beautiful,” you continue, bringing the trio in for a group hug. Nick and Chris are the first to pull away, leaving you clinging to Matt.
“You can thank Matt. This was all his idea,” Chris replies. Your arms are wrapped around Matt’s waist, a hug being the only way you can think to thank him. You look up at him, glossy eyes threatening to spill again.
“Happy birthday,” Matt murmurs, a smile forming on his face as he places the plate on the table and snakes his arms around you.
The moment is intimate enough to serve as Nick and Chris’s queue to leave. They sneak away into the kitchen quietly, giving you and Matt privacy.
“Thank you so much for this, Matt. You don’t know what this means to me,” you whisper, eyes locked with his.
“It’s nothing,” he shrugs.
“No, Matt. I really love this. Thank you.” A comfortable silence settles between you, the jukebox playing a calm melodic tune. You haven’t broken from the hug, swaying back and forth as you continue to admire the setup before you.
“Are you gonna try my cake?” Matt asks, using his chin to point towards the table. The whipped cream was beginning to melt into the spongy dough, strawberries and chocolate chips drooping down the edges.
“Mmm yeah, but I wanna stay like this just a little longer.” He doesn’t complain, instead pulling you in closer and resting his head on yours as you continue swaying to the music.
“That was really nice, Matt. Thank you,” it feels like the hundredth time that you’ve thanked Matt tonight. A half finished plate of food sits in front of you, the pancakes being enough to fill you up.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know,” he laughs. Matt sits next to you on the same booth chair, using the balloons that cluttered the other side as an excuse to sit closer to you.
“I do, though. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before... Not like there’s anyone left to do it,” the last part is hushed, he almost doesn’t catch it.
“C’mon, you’ve never had at least one birthday party?” He asks, his fingers play with one of the balloon strings. Despite knowing your tragic backstory, Matt finds the information hard to believe.
“Nope. This is the first cake I’ve ever had,” you admit, feeling sad at the confession.
“Well I hope you at least made a good wish,” Matt senses your shift in emotion, so he’s trying to remain positive.
“Yeah…” your voice trails off, fingernails scraping and picking at the plastic table cloth.
“Are you gonna tell me what you wished for, or are you superstitious?” Matt props an elbow on the table, resting his head on the palm of his hand as he looks at you. The moonlight from outside shines through the window, working alongside the dim diner lighting to illuminate your beautiful face. Your hair is down, the loose strands that keep falling in front of your eyes tucked behind your ears.
The question has you serious and embarrassed, “I’m not superstitious, it’s just a really corny wish.” He gives you a knowing look, one that encourages you to continue.
“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask, looking up at him tentatively.
You take a deep breath, rubbing your thighs in an attempt to ease your nerves before admitting something completely vulnerable, “I wished my dad was still here.”
“I know it’s never going to happen, I’m not naive, but I’ve never had a candle to wish on before so I just… I just wanted to make it count. I know it’s dumb—” your words are quiet and Matt cuts you off.
A gentle hand pulls your attention to him, his thumb caressing your cheek, “I don’t think it’s dumb.”
You don’t know what you did to deserve a friend as kind and loving as Matt. Another tear rolls down your cheek, swiftly being wiped away by Matt’s thumb. Even in your emotional state, you looked beautiful.
Subconsciously, Matt’s moving in closer to you. His eyes are flickering between your soft gaze and the plump lips that call out to him. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the vulnerability of the moment, or maybe it’s the undeniable crush you’ve had on Matt for years, but your eyes flutter shut and copy him in leaning in.
His lips find yours quickly, you taste like maple syrup and whipped cream. You’re the perfect sweet treat to end such an eventful night. Your hands rest on his shoulders, slowly traveling to the nape of his neck as your lips mould together. Neither of you can seem to get enough of each other. His tongue slips into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from you.
The moment you pull away, you’re breathless. Foreheads are pressed together, eyes locking to keep the intensity of the moment.
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he murmurs, going in for the next kiss of many.
MASTERLIST
a/n: you guys have no idea how long this sat in my drafts. I kept telling myself it was too sad, but it’s HURT TO COMFORT IT HAS TO HE SAD!
anyways my sweet anon! I hope you like this, especially bc I changed it a bit.
thank u and I luv YOU 💌
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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Follow You Anywhere 5
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: still sick but still craving dick.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You drain the glass of water and cling to it. You’re at a loss of what to do next. You’re not just trapped by this man, you’re bound up in fear. It’s a real life horror movie. 
You stand and blink long and hard, trying to steady yourself. You turn, your legs stiff and straight, your movement slow as if walking through sludge. You stop and sway as you find Sy watching you from the doorway. 
No wonder you never noticed him before. He’s so quiet, you didn’t even know he was still in the room. Well, he is a soldier after all. That fact chills you more than anything. Even if you were more formidable, you still wouldn’t have a hope. 
He wears only a pair of thin gym shorts, low on his hips and displaying his thick stomach. He’s not really fat, just burly. He’s got hair fron chest to waistline, his stomach boxy with muscle but not perfectly defined. His arms are hug and bulge without flexing. 
You gulp and look down at the empty glass and walk forward. 
“I can get that, sweetie,” he offers as you come close. 
“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I gotta... finish up a few things anyhow.” 
He doesn’t move. His large body blocks the exit and you poke your tongue out to wet your dry lips. His eyes narrow on your mouth and he releases a heavy exhale. 
“Excuse me,” you voice quavers, “I’m just tryna... get past.” 
“Sweetie, you sound tired, maybe you should lay down,” he reaches for you and you flinch. You see him hesitate before he closes the gap, rubbing your arm with his large hand. “Hm, I could rub your feet, we could talk. We got a lot of catching up to do.” 
“I... M-maybe later, this project is a big one,” you lie. It’s really nothing. A sixty-dollar edit you could do in your sleep. “It’s a bit early, anyway, right?” 
His hand lingers as he looks down at you. His thick fingertips flutter up your shoulder and along your neck. He turns his knuckles to graze your throat before he frames your chin. 
“You’re much prettier in person, you know that?” He purrs, “especially when you smile.” 
Your lip quivers as goosebumps raise on the back of your arms, “thanks, Sy. Um, sorry, can I get through?” 
He rubs your jaw with his thumb and tilts his head. Finally he drops his hand and sighs, smacking the side of his leg as he backs up, angling to offer just enough room for your escape. As you step out, you can’t help but brush against him. 
“Mmm,” he hums, “you smell like flowers.” 
You grip the glass even tighter, “thanks.” 
“Everything about you is just so...” he trails after you, right at your heels, “perfect.” 
You don’t know what to say to that. It’s a sweet compliment but it really doesn’t feel like it. He follows you to the kitchen, once more planting himself in the doorway, his hand on the frame as he watches you. You cough and rinse the glass, leaving it beside the sink. 
You face him again and wring your hands. As you near, he moves without being told. You skirt around him and sit at the table. You try not to shake as you open the laptop. You pause but resist the urge to look around. Where’s your phone? 
You do your best to bottle up every thought. You don't want him to sense your panic. You need to stay calm until a chance comes up. You don’t know what or when, but it has to. 
You click onto Adobe Suite and reload the same project as before. He just stands there, by the wall. You're too nervous to check if he’s looking at you.  
You hear a peculiar tapping and Aika slithers past her owner. As she approaches, you swallow and brace yourself. She sits beside you and puts her head in your lap. You gape down, in relief and surprise, and daintily touch her head. 
“She likes you a lot,” he beams and walks around the other side of the table. He drags a chair out and sits, “I told her all about you. She was over there too. Sniffin’ out IEDs.” 
“Oh,” you glance at him over the laptop. “Wow.” 
A pang stabs your chest. For a moment, you feel bad for him. You can’t begin to imagine what he saw in a war. You presume being far from home is never easy but that’s all so much more intense. 
“Yeah, tough, but we made it through,” he proclaims, “easier to get on when you got something to come home to.” 
You nod and look at the screen. This is all sorts of messed up. How stupid are you? Why couldn’t you just keep a journal? Why did you have to stream your stupid life to the stupid internet? You just assumed that no one would care. Like usual. 
You drag your fingers around the touch pad, trying to focus on the actual work. That's the only real escape you have. You need to think about anything else. 
“I thought... I thought you made your money from your videos,” he says as pushes his shoulders back, his figure broader than the chair. 
“Mm, no. Um, you know, not many viewers. I edit for other people. Pictures, videos,” you answer. It’s easier to talk when you keep it clinical. “Weddings, stuff like that.” 
“Ah,” he sniffs, “well, not about how many followers you got, just that they’re good people, huh?” 
“Sure, uh, yeah,” you sputter. 
“You okay, sweetie?” His tone sharpens. 
“Sorry, I'm just... working,” your lip twitches. “You know, I just... wasn’t expecting... you. I usually work um, between videos, and I didn’t plan on doing anymore today.” 
“Huh,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, “but you usually do one. One early, one late.” 
You shift and Aika nuzzles your thighs, huffing until your pet her again. You bite the inside of your lip as your face singes, “right, but I’m a little behind...” 
He’s quiet. You feel him staring. He probably can see right through your lies. 
“You’re a hard worker, sweetie, I woulda guessed so,” he stands and the chair scrapes loudly, making you wince, “let me get outta your way. I can wait a bit longer.” 
You don’t look up as his shadows blurs along the edge of your vision. You wait until it fades away before you dare to peek. The TV comes back to life and you exhale. It’s not exactly freedom, just room to breathe. 
🧸
You are anything but behind. You’re so desperate to dissociate, that you breeze through your current projects. In the background, Sy lurks, the couch creaking as he sits up, his footfalls against the floor as he paces, and the little clicks and clacks of his curiosity as he looks around your place. 
As your eyes begin to glaze over from the glare, he appears on the other side of the table, “hungry, sweetie?” 
You’re not. You shrug, not wanting to give the wrong answer. 
“I could order something. I know you just shopped and all but I don’t mind.” 
“You know, that’s nice but I’m still full from breakfast.” 
“Ah, yeah, that was a big one,” he agrees, “you know, those field rations made me a bit of a glutton once I got back to civilization.” 
“Oh. You’re welcome to cook for yourself or something,” you offer. 
“You gonna stay on that all night,” he points at the computer, “that sh—the light can’t be good for your eyes.” 
“No, um, I... just finished.” 
You close the laptop reluctantly. You hear the edge creeping into his timbre. He’s getting impatient. 
“Well, if you’re not hungry, how about I run you a bath? You’re tense, you should relax, sweetie,” his hands go to his hips and tugs up his shorts just a little. 
“Sure...” you murmur. 
He goes before you can say anything else. What else can you say? He’s crazy and it’s becoming more obvious by the minute. Maybe you are too for not screaming at him to leave you alone. 
Aika exhales and falls onto her side, stretching her long legs as she relaxes. Right, he’s not the only one you have to worry about. You get up and clasp your hands together. You walk around the table, once, twice, three times. 
You hear the faucet and shudder. You stop and look at Aika then the door. You could sneak out right then. Tell your neighbour there’s an intruder in your home. With all his things and his dog. And they would see him walking in with you on the cameras like everything was all good. 
Right. It’s an option but not better than the current one. You’re more likely to piss him off than get rid of him. 
“Got it running for ya,” he comes out and you push your hands down, fighting own your fear. 
“Thanks,” you say as you cross the room, “that’s so sweet.” 
“Yeah, sweetie, no problem,” he nears and you keep from shying away, “I’m just tryna take care of you.” 
“I... really appreciate it,” you eke out. 
“You just take your time,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “Mm,” he bites his lip, “you’re just so pretty. I can’t believe you’re real.” 
Your chest wracks and your head swells. You can’t believe he’s real either. 
You force a smile and freeze as you sense him leaning in. He kisses the top of your head and purrs, “you just go get nice and fresh.” 
He releases you and reluctantly lets you go. You sidle past him cautiously. You don’t look back as you head for the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and let the air free from your lungs. Holy crud. 
You go to the tub and stare in at the rising water. You wait for it to fill up before you shake the daze. You undress and slide into the water. You lean back and grip the edges. The world is surreal. 
You’re too restless to enjoy the warmth. Usually you would find a bath soothing. You often take them with a candle burning and your favourite soap bubbled over the surface. You don’t think you’ll ever know peace again. 
You sit up and hug your knees. You sit like that for a while. You want to fall apart right there but you know you can’t. The thing that helped you so much has doomed you. 
You pull the stopper and get out. The water’s just making you cold. You dry off and wrap the towel around you. You pick up your clothes and go to the door, pressing your ear to listen to the other side. 
You turn the handle slowly and ease it inch by inch. He’s not there. You tiptoe out, vigilant as you cross the room. You turn into the bedroom and nearly let out a yelp. You didn’t really think he’d left but you could hope. 
“These are real cute,” he lays down the button up silk pajama shirt with the matching shorts. 
“Oh, uh, sure, um...” 
“Should be nice and comfy,” he faces you with a grin. 
“Well, uh, yeah, but...” you begin to argue. You don’t really sleep in those ones, you more lounge around. “Thanks.” 
You keep your arms across your chest, the tower firmly clutched around you. You look down at the set as he remains close. You wait. Is he gonna go? 
“Aren’t ya gonna put them on?” 
“Sure, uh,” you grab them, your other hand fisted around the top of the towel, “I’ll just go do that.” 
“You don’t gotta be shy with me,” he purrs, “but I guess you’re a nice girl, huh. You like to take it slow.” 
You press your lips together, “mhm.” 
You back away, wanting to run in the other direction. You turn at the door and leave him there. You can’t help but feel he’s already seen too much. 
You flit back to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You are about to combust. You tremble as you pull on the shorts, then the shirt. You hang the towel and linger by the door. 
He's really not going to leave. For whatever reason, you hoped he might call it a night and go. Why would he do that? He doesn’t do sane things. 
“Sweetie,” the knock on the door makes you jump. “Everything okay?” 
“Yeah, fine,” you squeak. 
The door handle wiggles. You flick the lock back and he pushes it open from the other side. He lets go of the handle and steps back, his eyes roving up and down your body. 
“Ah, sugar, you look... look real... good,” his voice is smoky as he spreads his hand over his chest. “Sweet little thing, just wanna eat you—up!” 
He surprises you as suddenly he has you off your feet. He has his arms around you as he lifts you and carries you away from the bathroom door. You yelp and hit his shoulder, wriggling and kicking. Oh no! 
“Sy, please, no,” you cry out but he ignores you, “no, no, no...” you panic finally overflow and your eyes glisten. He takes you into the bedroom and your heart pounds feverishly, “please...” you wisp before he tosses you on the bed, “don’t hurt me!” 
You bounce on the mattress and hold your hand up, bracing for his next move. When it doesn’t come, you part your fingers and look at him through them. He watches you with a line in his forehead. 
“You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He rasps. 
“I... you just caught me off guard,” you push yourself up on your elbows, “I didn’t--” 
“I was just playing,” he frowns, “having some fun with my girl. Wanted some snuggles, is all.” 
Despite it all, you actually feel bad. He sounds genuinely hurt. You sit up all the way and pout up at him, “Sy,” you utter softly, “I’m tired, I’m sorry.” 
He inhales so his broad chest rises and blows it out as he rubs his shaves head. He drops his hand and sniffs, “yeah, me too. Been a long day.” 
“So... so...” you quaver as you grasp at the last of your courage, “let’s just sleep it off.” 
His jaw ticks and he tilts his head until you hear a pop, “yeah, you’re right, sweetie. Think I just got overexcited.” 
You flutter your lashes as you hold back the wave of relief. It dissipates as soon as it rises. This isn’t over. You have a whole night ahead of you and brand new day. 
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clangenrising · 2 days
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Month 13 - Newleaf
Russetfrond scarfed down his morning meal and went over his responsibilities in his head. Sparrowpaw and the others were due for an assessment in their hunting and survival skills that he needed to design with Goldenstar and Yarrowshade. Patrols were mostly in order except for Mystique. He still didn’t like putting her into his schedule but Goldenstar had been clear that she needed daily exercise. At least she had agreed not to send the kittypet on any kind of Border Patrol, at his request.
It took him a while to balance out the patrols to accommodate her, shuffling duties around here and there, but eventually he had a solid plan. He stood, stretched, and sighed. Deciding to get the most unpleasant task out of the way first, he turned towards the elders’ den where a sleepy Ospreymask was sitting watch. If he hurried and took Mystique out now, they would hopefully get back before the dawn patrol returned. 
He stepped up to the den and flicked his ear in Ospreymask’s direction, saying, “I’ll take over.” 
“Thanks,” she yawned and slinked off towards the warriors’ den. 
Mystique stirred inside the den. Curled up in the back corner, she lifted her head and pursed her lips. She seemed to have been awake for some time although she still seemed tired and hollow eyed. Her thick fur was starting to tangle as her winter shed came out poorly. He wondered absently if she even knew how to properly groom herself or if she let her twolegs do everything for her. 
“Hey,” she said, “What’s up?” 
“We’re going out,” he said. “I want to get your exercise out of the way before it gets too late.”
“Oh, alright,” she stood, ears brushing the top of the den, and slipped up beside him with a soft jingle. He stepped out of the way and let her arch her back and stretch her legs.
“I figured we’d go to the river and you could swim for a bit or something.”
“Wait, really?” she brightened. 
“Yes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Just as long as you agree to come back when I say we’re done.”
“Yeah, of course,” she nodded. 
“Good.” He set off out of camp, confident that she would follow. The morning was still young. The sun had just started to banish the chill of night from the air and birds were singing to each other from the distant trees. He and Mystique walked in silence for a while, simply basking in the beauty of morning. 
Mystique eventually ruined it by speaking. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 
“Oh?” He raised his brows skeptically. Hopefully it wasn’t another rendition of her ‘why does everyone hate me’ act. He’d heard from Branchbark all about her little incident during the Gathering and he wasn’t happy about it. 
“Yeah, um,” Mystique said, looking at the ground, “I’ve been thinking - About my brother and everything - and… I want to try and help you guys.”
“Pardon?” he nearly laughed. 
“I want to help,” she said, a little bolder. “Scorch is right, I’ve been way too passive. I may not fully understand what’s going on yet, but clearly you cats have a lot to lose and I want to help you. I was thinking maybe I could teach some combat drills or something? Y’know, help you hold your own.” 
This time Russetfrond really did laugh. “Yeah, right! We don’t need fighting tips from a kittypet.” The idea was completely absurd! Insulting, even!
Mystique frowned. “I’ll have you know, I’m better than most cats back in the city!”
“That’s not saying much,” he shook his head at the comedy of the situation. 
“I’m almost as good as Razor!” she insisted. “I bet I’m better than you! Hell, I know I am.” His shoulders tightened in offense. 
“Is that so?” he growled, puffing up his fur a bit. 
“Yeah,” she smirked and leaned down a bit to be more evenly on his level. “Try me and see.” 
“Fine,” he said, slowing to a stop. “Show me what you’ve got and I’ll see if your offer is worth anything.” They had stopped in the dip between two hills where pooling snowmelt had caused the grass to grow in thick and towering. It swayed above their heads gently, blocking out the rest of the world and nearly obscuring them from each other in its density. 
Russetfrond took a defensive stance. Mystique wiggled down into a crouch, tail tip twitching with eagerness. Russetfrond could already tell that she wasn’t taking this seriously - her smile was too bright, her gaze too scattered. This would be over quickly.
She moved in, tested his guard with a few swipes, and he danced easily to the side. He swiped at her ears with claws sheathed. Mystique ducked under the blow with surprising grace for her size and slipped into the opening he had given her. Her paws wrapped around his torso and her weight carried him off his feet and into the grass. 
They rolled for a beat, Russetfrond hissing and Mystique purring, and landed with him on his back looking up at her. He kicked out with his hind legs and she took the blow without a flinch, then whacked him sharply on the head causing his vision to swim. She snapped at one of his paws as he tried to swat her, twisted so the other swipe struck the back of her head, and rolled onto her side to avoid another strike of his hind paws. 
He rolled with her, onto his paws, and swatted her face twice, confident that, had this been a real fight, she would have been struggling to see through the blood. Mystiquer let out a mrrp of enjoyment and lunged. Her forepaws hooked around his neck and pulled his face into her chest before he knew what was happening. He struggled in the suffocating volume of her fur, unable to stop her as she rolled and flipped him over her body onto his side. Her hindpaws slammed into him, rabbit kicking over and over into his side. He hissed furiously and tucked his head to slam it up into her chin. She reeled, let him go, and he tumbled away. If this were real, he would be bleeding profusely from his flank, but for now he was simply panting heavily, struggling for breath. 
“That was-” he didn’t get to finish. Somehow she was on her paws again and barreling into him. His surprise let her take him to the ground again and she quickly pressed his face into the dirt with one paw. Tail bristling, he tried to rise but suddenly her teeth were in his scruff, causing his legs to seize instinctively. His cheeks flushed hotly at the predicament. 
“Alright!” he hissed quickly, “You win!” He needed her to let him go. 
“Told you I was better than you.” He could feel the shape of her grin against his fur. He forced his body to move and tried to wiggle out from under her but she shifted to put a hindpaw on his haunches, pressing him flat into the ground. His stomach fluttered, only serving to make him even more embarrassed. 
“You proved your point,” he growled, “let me up.” They were both breathing hard, her fur brushing his back every time she inhaled. 
“Say please,” she ordered smugly between breaths. 
“No,” he growled, his skin buzzing uncomfortably with some kind of energy. He felt dizzy. 
“Aww, come on,” she said, her teeth thankfully letting go of his scruff. He summoned his strength and rolled onto his back, paws ready to swipe at her if she tried anything else, but she just smiled at him and tilted her head, one paw raised as if they were playing a game. He found it hard to swallow. 
“You put up a pretty good fight,” she panted, flopping down next to him. 
“You too,” Russetfrond admitted begrudgingly, letting his arms go slack. The grass swayed above and around them, a world of lush green with a small glimpse of cloudless, blue sky. It muted the birdsong and the sound of the wind, leaving them alone with only their slowing breaths to listen to. 
“I won!” she purred, “I’d say I was more than pretty good.” He didn’t want to say it but he was inclined to agree. Neither of them spoke again until they had mostly regained control of their breathing. Russetfrond still felt dizzy though, dizzy and warm and hungry for something he couldn’t explain. 
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“Wanna go again?” she whispered, like it was a secret. He knew he needed to say no. He knew that he was standing on the precipice of something very big and very exciting and very dangerous and that if he didn’t leave now he wouldn’t be able to fight the hold it had on him. 
“Alright,” he breathed, the edge of a smile daring to pull at his lips. He swallowed hard again. Mystique grinned wider than he’d ever seen, looking like she was hungry too. 
“Hell yeah,” she said. “Maybe you can try and pin me this time.” Russetfrond thought he would like that very much. 
“Don’t go easy on me,” he said, getting back to his paws. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she chuckled, swishing her silky tail around herself as she huddled into an eager crouch. 
“Good,” said Russetfrond. He jumped.
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kyluff · 1 day
Text
— ↺ Rich Nanami
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✎ nanami x reader !
✦ summary ➠ Rich!Nanami is actually very sweet
✦ warnings ➠ rude stranger, harassment kind of (?)
✦ note ➠ btw my Rich!Nanami isn’t like one of those crazy, dominant mafia guys ok, he’s just a nice, proper man.
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Rich!Nanami first lays eyes on you when he had a important dinner happening at the fancy restaurant you worked at, he planned to meet up with a few other powerful and rich men, similar to himself.
Rich!Nanami can’t keep his gaze from falling back to you; he admired the way you looked in that waitressing outfit, the way you always flashed a sweet smile at everyone, he even admired the way you were able to swerve the crowds of people in the busy building.
And now, before he knew it, you were making your way to his table. For the first time in many years, Rich!Nanami had felt his heart quicken in pace and his palms begin to moisten from sweat.
“Hello, I’m Y/n, and I will be helping you for tonight. What can I start you off with?” That’s how it started, Rich!Nanami and his other colleague sitting at a table, but as time passed it ended with just him being left there.
After asking for many useless drinks just for an excuse to talk to you again, Rich!Nanami had to use the washroom. He turned the corner, at first he only saw you leaning against a wall, then his vision widened and he was met with a man hovering over top of you.
“Come on, just one little kiss.” The unknown man chuckled in your face, brushing a stand of hair out of your face.
“I really should be getting back to work.” You tried to make a joke out of the situation, lightly pushing against him in an attempt to remove him from you.
“Is there a problem?” Rich!Nanami questioned from behind the man, you eyes lit up at the sight of a possible person to help you.
The guy spat out some stupid excuse as to why he was harassing you. Rich!Nanami didn’t tolerate much of that and threw the man onto the ground.
He soon shook out of his initial anger, the first thing he thought of was how you would react, you were just being harassed by an idiot and then he added throwing him to the ground to the list. What Rich!Nanami didn’t expect was for you to laugh in response, with your hands covering your mouth quickly after like you had committed some type of crime.
“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t laugh. I should be thanking you, so thanks.” Rich!Nanami would definitely be visiting this place again.
And that he did, again and again and again. Until he finally had the courage to ask you for your number.
“Finally.” Is all you said, and before you knew it you two were going out on dates, texting, and getting to know each other.
Like all relationships, the other has to come to your house eventually. That was the thing you worried most about, you had been over to his house a few times already, but he has never been to yours. He was rich, that was evident from his luxurious penthouse he owned. You were the opposite, your apartment was small, only fitting one bedroom, you were going through university so having a nice home wasn’t really on your mind. Until you met Rich!Nanami, now it was all you could think about.
“I was thinking maybe we could go to your place this time.” That’s what lead to where you are now, standing in front of your door nervously, fiddling with the keys.
Rich!Nanami washed all your worries away when he reassured you that he cared not of what your living situation was, he only wished to spend time with you.
Rich!Nanami is a softy.
79 notes · View notes
pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
Note
a request please, jaosn x reader, how do percy, poseidon, hera and tyson react if jason apologizes to them because the adorable blonde superman dreamed that he kissed the reader without permission (he hasn't confessed yet) and thinks he's a pervert :D
I dreamed about that today, my younger sister was scared because apparently I laughed very hard in my dreams at dawn.
guilty ๑⁠´ blurb
— jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader
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summary: practically what is above. Jason being a silly in love
warnings: none, maybe swearing.
a/n: heyy. dessert is served. hope you like it. Jason asking for forgiveness and taking responsibility for everything is the most roman thing. so sweet too. i love him. 😭
—I made a big mistake.
Everyone's expressions changed completely. Coming from Jason, a confession like that couldn't be taken lightly.
“What would he have done to bring two gods?” Percy wondered as he looked at Tyson. And why did he want them to be there too?
Hera cleared her throat and straightened her posture.
—Jason... what are you talking about?
— was not my intention.
Her voice sounded shaky and her cheeks struggled not to turn red.
— what wasn't your intention, boy? Should we call my brother? — Poseidon stabbed his trident into the grass and looked askance at Percy for an explanation, but he was just as confused.
Jason's skin crawled and he shook his head.
— I don't want to put my father in disgrace.
Hera touched her chest and encouraged Jason to continue as he took a seat at one of those dining tables at Camp Half-Blood. What would her champion have done so wrong that he sought refuge in her first rather than her father?
— Nept... Poseidon.— Jason bowed before him. Then he bowed to Tyson and Percy too. The brothers saw each other out of the corner of their eyes. Totally confused.—I dreamed of her daughter, desecrating her lips with a kiss.
Nobody said anything for a few seconds, those sounds of nature became more intense in the dining room, but the air was filled with disbelief.
The tension disappeared from the god's shoulders and he looked at Hera confused. She let out a whimper and rested his forehead on the palm of her hand as she shook her head. If he was right in his suspicions, that action indicated an "Oh, not again."
Jason deepened his reverence before the god.
— I beg your forgiveness. Although I know I don't deserve any after committing such an atrocity.
Gods, what?
Poseidon held back the urge to laugh but Percy, his son, didn't help him when he burst into laughter. Tyson imitated his brother without knowing why he did it, but he seemed funny. That's when the sea god let out a laugh, still very polite.
Hera scowled at him but she couldn't deny it, it was a complete joke.
Jason looked at them with his eyebrow slightly raised as the three of them laughed and Hera sagged in embarrassment.
What had he done wrong?
—boy, have you already told my daughter that you like her?
Jason's cheeks flushed, his pale skin not helping him hide it at all.
—No sir. That is why-
— Do it. Stop the nonsense. — He pointed the trident at him and Percy looked cautiously at his father, taking care that he didn't overdo it with his friend — And if you do anything to my baby... you'll die.
—Poseidon! — Hera screeched.
He laughed — No, it's not true. But be careful boy. You almost gave us a... again, what's that phrase?
— A heart attack— Percy said, rolling his eyes.
— Heart attacks are not fun — Tyson muttered and Poseidon agreed.
—They're not fun — he repeated and gave Hera a look. —Your boy has a very tough sense of responsibility.
— He is Roman, Poseidon — Hera said, moving her hands with disdain and giving Jason a longing look. — My champion is in love.
His expression immediately changed to a serious one.
—Jason, I already told you that you don't have to apologize for everything.
—But it's the rig-
— The right thing, yes. But this time it was a dream about kissing Poseidon's daughter. We don't care, even less if you can have other types of dreams... — she raised her eyebrow and Jason felt like he was going to explode at that moment. Even some hairs rose with electricity.
Hera waving her hands to calm him down.
— Ew! She is my sister! — Percy screeched with a disgusted face. Jason smiled.
—Jason is in love with our little sister—Tyson said between giggles.
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pufflehuffing · 3 days
Text
Getting You Off Is My New Favourite Hobby. 🔞 - Sebastian Sallow
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pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader genre: smut, mdni (everyone is 18+) warning: slight pining/hook-up ✧ cunnilingus ✧ mutual masturbation ✧ virgin!Sebastian ✧ voyeurism ✧ unprotected sex ✧ missionary ✧ sideways ✧ cumming inside summary: After helping the new girl unpack her trunk, Sebastian can't help the raging hard-on in his trousers. As though struck by luck, he walks into a sight that reveals he wasn't the only one needing release after a tense meeting. word count: 12.4k my masterlist.
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In the blue glow Slytherin common room, Sebastian paced in front of the fireplace, idly flipping through a spellbook. As you, a new student, entered with your heavy-looking trunk, his attention snapped to you like a spell cast. Mesmerised by your presence, he couldn't resist the urge to approach, his heart racing with intrigue and curiosity. With a confident stride, he tossed his book, eager to initiate a conversation and get to know you.
You stumble in with your trunk held up with both hands, arms straight from carrying the heavy load. You plop it down on the stone floor and take a breather. You lean against a pillar and look around, taking in the scenery, when you notice a brunet boy approaching the entrance. You don't think much of it, guessing that he was probably on his way out, so you scoot the trunk out of the way. As Sebastian approached, his heart pounded even louder against his chest, every fibre of his being drawn to you. He couldn't contain his excitement now that he finally had the chance to speak with you. His gaze flickered over your figure, appreciating the way you held yourself despite the burden of the trunk. But before he could utter a word, you made room for him to pass, seemingly oblivious to the effect you had on him. His brows furrowed slightly as he wondered if perhaps you didn't notice his interest.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sebastian quickly adjusted his focus. Instead of mentioning his attraction, he decided to offer assistance with your heavy belongings. "Allow me," he said gently, reaching out to take some of the burden from your hands. The weight of the trunk was surprisingly substantial, but he managed it effortlessly as he walked it towards a nearby empty spot near the couches. He dusted off his palms, trying to conceal his nerves, and offered you a winning smile. "Welcome to Slytherin, by the way. My name is Sebastian Sallow, your local duelling expert.”
As you glanced up to thank the boy for helping with the trunk, you froze in place, struck by the pure force of his magnetic gaze. Your eyes widened at the sight of the brunet up close and your heart skipped a beat as you took in his charming features and alluring confidence. He exuded an aura that was impossible to ignore, making your cheeks flush with heat. Swallowing nervously, you forced out a weak smile and murmured your thanks, grateful for his assistance. "You did that without breaking a sweat. Impressive," you blurted out while attempting to regain your composure. You hesitated for a moment, cursing yourself mentally and glancing around before finding the courage to address the captivating presence in the room. "Sorry, I must have seemed rude earlier, I… I didn't catch that you were approaching. I'm usually not so lost in my own thoughts." A nervous laugh escaped you as you extended your hand, hoping to make amends. "Pleased to meet you.”
Sebastian felt an unexpected jolt as you apologised, undeniably attracted to your vulnerability. Your admission only fueled his fascination, making him feel even more drawn to you. He grinned in response, his eyes gleaming with amusement and admiration. "No need to apologise; I've come across many who forget their manners in my presence," he quipped playfully before gripping your hand and giving it a firm shake. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, savouring the warmth from your touch.
His gaze never wavered from yours, and he could sense the tension building between you. Feeling bold, he decided it was worth a shot. "Is there something you'd like help with? Perhaps unpacking or navigating the castle since it's your first day?" The words tumbled out of his mouth, his voice low and inviting, hinting at his genuine intentions to help and spend more time with you already.
A wave of relief washed over you as Sebastian offered assistance. Exhaustion from your journey overwhelmed you, and having help sounded like an absolute dream. However, the idea of spending time alone with him in your dormitory sent a ripple of excitement and anxiety coursing through your veins. Your gaze swayed between his captivating eyes and your shoes, feeling embarrassed at the thought of him seeing your personal belongings.
"That would be amazing," you managed to stammer out, still struggling with the conflicting emotions surging through you. Your eyes flickered nervously between him and the trunk, contemplating the prospect of him seeing your things. Finally, you summoned the courage to voice your hesitation. "But, um, maybe your help isn't really required. I mean, it's just… my clothes and books. Nothing interesting." You bit your lip, realising how silly you might sound, but unable to help the sentiment. There was just something about exposing yourself like that to a stranger that made you uneasy, even though your attraction to Sebastian was growing stronger by the minute.
Sebastian felt his face flush as he realised he'd hit a nerve. Yet rather than letting it deter him, he leaned in closer, towering over the trunk with an air of nonchalance. "Nothing strange here, I promise," he assured you, his voice velvety smooth. "Just a helping hand. After all, you need to settle in comfortably, and I happen to be quite skilled at that sort of thing." His teasing smile never faltered, but beneath it lay a genuine concern for your ease. Suddenly remembering his sister, he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce a part of himself that wasn't known to everyone yet. "Plus, having a twin sister, I've seen more than my fair share of wardrobes. No judgement from me, trust me." With that, he shot you a reassuring nod, attempting to dispel any residual doubt while maintaining a lighthearted tone. In truth, the thought of intimacy piqued his curiosity, but he knew it was best to tread lightly at this stage.
Your eyebrows arched slightly at Sebastian's revelation of his twin sister. This newfound information added another layer of intrigue to him, making your heart race even faster. You appreciated the attempt at easing your concerns, feeling slightly more comfortable with the idea of him assisting you. Gathering your nerves once again, you nodded and shifted your stance in expectation. "Okay, then. Thanks for understanding. If you could help place them where I usually keep them, that'd be great." There was a hint of gratitude mixed with apprehension in your voice. Despite your uncertainty, there was something irresistibly appealing about allowing Sebastian into this private aspect of your life.
Sebastian's face flushed a deeper shade of pink as you agreed, and he hastily picked up the trunk, his fingers grazing yours for a brief second as you went to do the same. The warmth from your touch sent a shiver down his spine, leaving him even more flustered than before. "Room number, please?" He asked in a raspy whisper, attempting to conceal his embarrassment. Each interaction seemed to make him crave more, and yet, he fought to maintain decorum. The anticipation of entering your dormitory filled him with equal parts excitement and dread, but it was evident that he wouldn't trade this experience for anything else. Pacing himself, he waited for your response while holding the trunk securely, his eyes still locked onto yours.
With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you recited your dorm room number, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks as you spoke. Sebastian's casual demeanour amidst the burgeoning awkwardness was endearing, and you found yourself reflecting on the contrast between his appearance and his strength. His hair was unkempt yet sexy, framing his sharp eyes, and those freckles dotted across his nose gave him an almost boyish charm. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, and the unexpected nature of these feelings, you decided that maybe it was worth indulging in this connection. After all, first impressions were important, and you couldn't shake off the magnetic pull toward him. Following closely behind, he led the way to your assigned room in Slytherin's quarters, balancing a mix of trepidation and anticipation.
Upon reaching your room, he gently pushed open the door and gestured for you to step inside first. Still surprisingly, he carried the heavy trunk with minimal effort, mirroring his assertion of being well-acquainted with caretaking tasks. As you entered, his eyes trailed up and down your body, assessing your every curve with hidden desire. He couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him—from your graceful movements to the playful bounce in your steps. He was acutely aware of his attraction but tried to mask it as professional curiosity, pretending to analyse the layout instead. "Which corner would you prefer for your bed, love?" he queried, still battling to control his impulses. He shifted the trunk between his hands while waiting for your answer, resisting the urge to swallow the lump forming in his throat.
You felt your cheeks burn as Sebastian casually referred to you as "love," catching you completely off guard. The warmth spread across your face, heightening the sensation of being watched. Despite his amateur attempt to dismiss it as an accident, the nickname cut straight to your core, stirring unexpected feelings within you. He sensed your reaction, and panic set in. He quickly diverted the conversation back to practical matters, realising that words could be powerful indeed. His smooth facade shattered, replaced with sheepish nervousness. "Damn, I meant… uh, which side do you want to sleep on?" He stuttered, desperately trying to regain composure while setting the trunk down gently beside the vacant beds.
As he sought to rectify his blunder, his gaze lingered on your lovely blush, further entangled in the enigma that was you. Suddenly, it became clear that things weren't as simple as he'd imagined. You decided on one of the beds and walked towards it, the vibrancy of your blush still persisting. As you fluffed the pillow, running your fingers over its soft fabric, your gaze traced the lines of the dormitory. The wallpaper, the furniture, everything felt much more intimate now with Sebastian around. You wondered if he noticed the significance of that affectionate term he had used earlier or if it was merely a slip. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Sebastian struggled to maintain his composure. He discreetly adjusted himself, fighting the rock-hard erection that insisted on reminding him of its presence. Your proximity, coupled with the soft rustling of the pillow, created an environment charged with stimuli. He couldn't ignore the signs anymore—his body was acutely attuned to you. Inhibiting a groan, he nodded and swiftly moved to pick up the trunk again, hoping that handling tasks would distract from the rising desire.
Without warning, Sebastian dropped the heavy trunk onto the bed you had chosen, causing it to bounce slightly on the mattress as the bed frame croaked loudly. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips, startled by the sudden movement, yet also conscious of its suggestiveness. The impact reverberated throughout the room, punctuating the air with an electrifying tension. He froze, horrified by his lack of finesse and the effect it had on you. His breath caught in his throat, watching as you winced slightly. He willed himself not to look at your lips, praying you hadn't turned rosy from the whimper. Quickly gathering his wits, he forced a laugh. "Oh, sorry! Can't seem to remember my own strength sometimes.”
Swallowing nervously, you reached for the latches of your trunk, timidly opening it with a bit more caution than usual. Inside lay a jumble of tangled clothes, relics of home, and personal belongings. Relief washed over you as you spotted your knickers skillfully hidden beneath textbooks. Thank Merlin you had packed meticulously! Silently thanking your organised self, you tamed any fears of humiliation. Turning to Sebastian, you offered a small smile, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalated further. "Thanks for your help," you said softly, choosing not to mention the unfortunate incident with the trunk.
Before you could fully drag the open trunk towards you, a glimpse of dark red lace peeked from the tumble of clothes, lying tantalisingly near the edge. Sebastian's eyes widened momentarily, taking note of the scarlet scrap before you hastened to cover it again. A slow grin crept across his face, revealing teeth stained by guilt and amusement. "Careful," he chuckled, moving swiftly to help you arrange the books and clothes, effectively hiding the incriminating piece of evidence. "Those books can stack rather precariously." Unsure whether to be dismayed or amused by the coincidence, you complied with his assistance, staying silent as you tidied up. An electric current pulsed between you—the small revelation sparking curiosity and a touch of naughtiness. His hands brushed past yours, sending shivers down your spine. Classic literature never felt so scandalous.
You agreed, handing over the books as your heart pounded faster. The heat from his palm seeped into yours, branding your senses with his aura. With quick efficiency, you tucked away your undergarment amongst your clothes, ensuring they wouldn't make another embarrassing cameo. Quietly, you busied yourself sorting through your unpacked items, unable to meet his gaze. "Could you place those on the desk there? Thanks," you murmured sheepishly, nodding towards a wooden table nearby.
The silence stretched between you, filled with countless unsaid words and suppressed nervous laughter. Sebastian's gaze lingered on the pile of clothes you'd neatly arranged, the lace still visible in his mind. Despite your efforts, he knew exactly what lay hidden within. His own blush deepened as he placed the books on the desk, relishing this newfound mystery. This game seemed far from over. As Sebastian carefully arranged the books on the desk, a thousand thoughts paraded through his mind. Every line, every hue painted a vivid picture of you wearing the alluring red garment. He pondered about the curves it might conceal, the secrets it promised. The very idea made his blood rush hotter, making it difficult to concentrate on mundane tasks.
His imagination danced wildly—how soft you must feel beneath those tempting fabrics, how delightful the scent would be, and how desperately he yearned to explore your taste. Yet it wasn't just physical appetite driving his fantasies; rather, the juxtaposition intrigued him most. Timidity cloaked in seduction, innocence dripping in sin. Oh, what a fascinating enigma you were. Despite your quiet demeanour, there was undoubtedly a fiery spirit within. That brazen red whispered promises of passion untold, and Sebastain was desperate to decode the riddle. But for now, he feigned obliviousness, knowing discretion was crucial. For he, too, had secrets brewing beneath his polished exterior.
Your breath hitched, your thoughts wandering down paths you'd previously avoided. Images of Sebastian draped in nothing but his own undergarments filled your mind. You imagined the way his lean body would look, tension rippling beneath smooth skin, and how desire might transform his expressive features. Your cheeks flamed, realising the consequences of your daydream. Your undergarments, once just a respectable layer of cotton, now clung uncomfortably damp. You hesitated, contemplating whether to change immediately or risk waiting till privacy. Either way, the mere thought of Sebastian sent waves of warmth coursing through you.
This new reality was overwhelming yet exciting. The prospect of exploring these feelings with him felt both thrilling and terrifying. And even though you knew better than to fantasise about such unthinkable practices with a stranger, the taboo nature only fueled your fascination further. What kind of man was he beneath that charming façade? And who were you becoming? Embarrassed and exhilarated, you began to hang your clothes in the wardrobe, clutching your jumper tightly against your chest. You hoped no one else would enter our dormitory right now, especially not a professor.
Meanwhile, Sebastian snatched an opportunity to glance at the daring undergarment tucked among your belongings. His cheeks burned like fire, his conscience whispering warnings while his heart begged for indulgence. Nevertheless, he managed a casual facade, retrieving your toiletries from your trunk next. Placing them onto your nightstand, he attempted small talk, trying to maintain an easygoing front. "Quite an impressive collection of hair ribbons. Are you a budding hairdresser, perhaps?" he asked, sounding playful despite the racing pulse in his ears. Focusing on the silky sensuality of the fabric, Sebastian fought back a moan. His erection strained against his wool trousers, urging him to relieve it. Despite the torment, he maintained an air of nonchalance. As you spoke about your collection, he tried diverting attention from the obvious evidence of his turmoil.
Distracted by your work with the coat hangers, you replied, "A girl could never have enough hair accessories. Keeps one grounded, doesn't it?" The irony wasn't lost on him; here he was, losing equilibrium over a pair of lacy panties, owned by a pretty girl. He had to continue chatting lightly about trivial matters, hoping to shift focus from the risqué interlude. Meanwhile, his mind reeled with possibilities—how much more would you reveal if pushed further, and how far would you let him push?
With ease, you slid your pyjamas into the dresser drawer, determined to ignore your sopping wet panties beneath your own uniform. Every movement exposed subtle curves beneath thick layers—hips swaying gently as you bent, breasts barely concealed by cotton. Despite repeated attempts at restraint, Sebastian couldn't contain his perusal. Your sensuous silhouette mesmerised him, setting off a chorus of wanton whispers in his mind.
He adjusted himself again discreetly, his gaze following your lithe form closely. The sight of your tight calves leading to exquisitely plump thighs nearly undid him. His tongue ran along his dry lips, imagining the taste of your tender neck while your fragrance fills his senses. Even your tastefully sized uniform couldn't obscure the fullness of your figure, the captivating contours taunting him. But then, your innocent nature added depth to your appeal. Would you be just as guarded and bashful in bed? Your choice of lingerie suggested otherwise.
Sebastian cleared his throat, forcing himself back into the realm of pleasantries and semblances of decency. "So, what did you think of our common room?" He questioned casually yet earnestly, his gaze lingering on your hands as they moved over drawers and knick-knacks. His heart pounded relentlessly, echoing the beat of his hardening member. His thoughts, however, raced ahead unabashedly. Sebastian's imagination knew no bounds, unfettered by morality. Picture after picture played in his mind—your bound hands tugging against the silk material of the ribbons, drawing taut across your soft skin, contrasting sharply with the delicate confines of your undergarments. Then there was your lower half, helpless under his control; the fabric binding your thighs, tickling sensitive flesh like devil's snare, driving an insatiable hunger within him. And finally, that tantalising fantasy: a silk lint threaded between your folds, brushing against your clitoris with every imperceptible motion.
Each image flooded his senses, his entire being consumed by lust. Yet, he banished them swiftly, summoning a calm mask for your benefit. He needed to tread carefully, to navigate the murky waters of desire without capsizing his ship. Amidst it all, one thing was clear—you were destined to become his obsession, a new student sent here exclusively for him to indulge in.
You turned away from your stuffed wardrobe towards Sebastian, who sat casually yet suggestively on an otherwise empty bed. Heat blanketed your face as you realised how openly you'd examined him too. From his tousled hair down to his bulged trousers, every detail drew you in further. Desire coiled within you, battling apprehension and shock. It seemed this entire scenario was an unwritten invitation to explore untrodden territory. "The common room seemed… Dark," you mumbled shyly, delving into neutral words while trying not to gawk anymore. Your heartbeat matched your thoughts—erratic and fast, pulsating with anticipation and trepidation.
Noticing the flex of your thigh muscles as you shifted position, Sebastian swallowed hard, trying not to let his growing fascination show. They seemed so delicate yet strong, making him imagine them wrapped around his head during passionate nights. "Ah, the darkness suits us Slytherins perfectly, don't you think?" He smirked subtly, the gleam in his eyes hinting at more than idle conversation. As he answered, he fought back the urge to touch those very limbs. Instead, he hunched over on your unused bed, planting his arms and clasping his hands in his lap to hide his own discomfort. "Although, once you settle in, there will be plenty more to observe." Was it a casual observation or friendly small talk? Only he would know, though part of you hoped it was a promise.
Sebastian felt his resolve crumbling like sandcastles at high tide. He wanted nothing more than to rush into his own dormitory and relieve himself, but his better judgement held him back. With a tired sigh, he devised an excuse spot on, hoping it would suffice. "Well, I think we got most of your stuff," he remarked lightly before standing up hastily, concealing his arousal from your watchful gaze. "I suppose there's much studying left to do this evening. I think I should be heading off." His voice dripped with sexiness laced with melancholy, as though Christmas had just come early and gone by within minutes.
Turning away from your spellbinding form, he headed towards the door. "Duty calls, I'll see you tomorrow?" He chuckled a bit sheepishly as he opened the wooden door, wondering how soon fate would conspire again. As Sebastian prepared to exit, you managed a wavering smile filled with equal parts nerves and longing. "Goodnight, Sebastian," you whispered softly, feeling vulnerable under the weight of recent events. Flushed cheeks mirrored shared embarrassment and arousal that transcended mere acquaintanceship.
"Indeed," he acknowledged with a nod, halfway through the doorway. Despite his own disarray, he respected your need for decorum. A final, appreciative glance over his shoulder conveyed volumes unsaid. With a quiet chuckle at life's whimsical turns, Sebastian vanished into shadowy corridors, leaving behind an electric atmosphere suffused with tension and desire.
Feeling the weight lift off your shoulders upon Sebastian's departure, you let out a sigh of relief, sinking onto your bed wearily. There was something exhausting about repressed desire. You kicked off your shoes hastily and sprawled onto the mattress, your movements more erratic than usual. The school skirt rode high as it exposed your panties.
Without further ado, you whipped off your damp underwear, hastily lifting your skirt higher. Now completely naked from waist down, you surrendered to your needs. Thoughts of Sebastian swirled crazily in your head: his voice, subtle confidence, and most notably, the outline suggesting a girthy cock pressed against trousers. Those images propelled you further into arousal. Your fingers found home amidst your pussy’s folds in your underwear, rubbing circles that quickly escalated into almost violent strokes. Hard breaths punctuated the silence, breaking only for brief moans that you tried to muzzle unsuccessfully. As your caresses became more urgent, you imagined his rough fingertips pressing and rubbing against your pulsating core. Each stroke replayed the day's scenes differently than the reality: his gaze heavier, his words dirtier, his bulge even bigger. Desire consumed every thought, each breath now ragged and wild.
As Sebastian retraced his steps to his own dormitory, he couldn't resist touching himself discreetly through the wool barrier by squeezing his erection with his pocketed hand. His grip tightened involuntarily, his thoughts already veering into erotic territories. Images of your body lingered prominently, heightening arousal that threatened to burst through.
He visualised your beautiful form anew: legs spread wide, inviting, your sexy sounds echoing in his ears. His knuckles dug into his swelling member as visions flooded his mind—your dewy lips begging for his mouth, your hips grinding against his pelvis, your moans accompanying each thrust.
A torrent of lascivious scenarios invaded his senses and though he struggled to maintain composure, every step felt like walking on thin ice. Each squeeze exasperated him further, his groin throbbing under layers of clothing. He marvelled at the intensity of this attraction, wondering if it reflected mutual feelings or merely his immense libido. Finally reaching his own dormitory, he bolted inside, slamming the door shut. Dismissing any semblance of shame, Sebastian fumbled with the buttons, freeing his aching member. Groaning at the ceiling as he threw his head back, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of your meeting earlier.
With a desperate hunger on your side of the dungeons, you grasped your breasts, freeing them from the restrictive uniform, the cool air caressing them gently as they bounced lightly. A soft moan escaped your throat, eyes clenched shut. The sight of tousled curls brushing against them clouded your mind, urging you onward. Two fingers slid deep into your wet depths, mimicking the firm yet tender exploration you wished for from Sebastian. You matched his supposed cadence, imagining him kneading those lovely globes with skilled hands, his other fingers probing roughly between your thighs. Each pump sent shivers coursing through your body, simultaneously pleasurable and agonising. Your nipples tightened under your own touch, demanding more.
The fantasy deepened: Sebastian's tongue flicking across your skin, teeth tenderly scraping while his fingers pushed your boundaries deeper. Feelings too potent to contain swirled chaotically in your head, threatening to spiral beyond control. An invisible thread connected your pleasure to his, entrancing and addicting. Your breath hitched faster with each movement, your entire being chanting his name quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
On the other end of Slytherin's labyrinthine corridors, Sebastian lay sprawling on his bed, trousers unzipped and let loose. Shutting his eyes tightly, he focused on the memory seared into his brain. Your face, voice, and scent assaulted him relentlessly, amplifying the need that could no longer be ignored. Jerking off with abandon, he gave in to his lust. Gritting his teeth, he pictured every minute detail of your luscious body, his anticipation growing stronger with each stroke. However, a nagging detail surfaced: he hadn't bothered locking the bedroom door. Despite the impending orgasm, fear crept its way in. What if someone barged in and found him thus engaged? Fumbling for his wand, panic gripped his heart. Where did he keep it?
Panic soon melted into frustration when he couldn't locate his trusty wand among scattered quills, books, and robes strewn around recklessly. A curse slipped past his lips involuntarily. Amidst these unfortunate circumstances, his cock pulsed forcefully, spurring him to continue a little longer. Yet, the fear of interruption left him tense, unable to fully immerse in the moment. Sebastian wanted nothing more than to cum fiercely, shouting your name to the roof, but fear kept him restrained. A sudden realisation dawned on his freckled face, blindingly obvious after much thought. In the chaos preceding assistance, he might have briefly set it on your desk while helping you unpack your trunk. He hesitated, torn between exploring his fantasies and retrieving his wand. However, practicality won over fantasy.
Sebastian knew the danger that lurked in his recklessness; if caught, the consequences would be dire. The urgency dwindled slowly as rationality filled the gaps, replacing horniness with embarrassment. With a heavy sigh, he began dressing hurriedly while mentally tracing steps back to your room. His heart pounded on his chest, the thought of facing you again, however fleeting, triggering excitement once more. Leaving his room hastily, he navigated towards yours with apprehension, praying to find his wand untouched. He felt vulnerable without it, exposed and fidgety. Although his body yearned for release, duty came first—his precious possession needed to return to its rightful master post-haste.
Upon reaching your dormitory door, Sebastian knocked out of courtesy, though the sound reverberated loudly in his ears. The subsequent moments bore an atmosphere pregnant with anticipation. A withheld breath escaped when he pushed the door slightly ajar, and his eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the scene before him. You laid sprawled on the bed, legs splayed eagerly, gasping his name while your eyes squeezed shut. The image of you, wet and wild, sent a jolt directly to his groin. Your tits jiggled invitingly as he watched, your nipples stiff, hands working diligently through your creamy slick. As the wand lay innocuously on your desk, his eyes were fixated elsewhere: two fingers sliding rhythmically, delving deep into your weeping entrance, covered by a cotton barrier. Mouth agape, he watched as your knuckles penetrated your wet cunt, matching the tempo he craved to set within them. Every whimper, every gasp was like music in his ears, reawakening his dormant arousal, a heady blend of temptation and perversity. His gaze roamed over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin. Your moans wafted through the air, each one carrying your tongue's bitter confession of lust for him. They lashed at his ego, enticing him further into the erotic dance. Each rhythm seemed to scream "join me," a magnetic pull he couldn't resist anymore.
Despite his initial plan to retrieve the wand and leave to fuck his fist in his own dormitory, curiosity spiked as his cock strained desperately for attention. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips, decision finally made. Cocking his hip against the door behind him, he leaned nonchalantly, watching you through hooded eyes. You gasped again; this time louder, your breath hitching upon finding your sweet spot again. That beautiful face contorted with pleasure and embarrassment—a sight he had never seen but always desired. Knowing it was him who caused this reaction only fueled his desire, making him harder by the second. Your hand didn't pause though it quivered under the strain of your aggressive rhythm, daring and bold all at once. With a devilish smile tugging at his lips, he circled his pants with unsteady hands, struggling to keep himself contained amid a storm of hormones.
Clearing his throat nervously, Sebastian tried vainly not to blush, even as heat flooded his cheeks. The shock in your eyes mirrored his internal chaos perfectly. His swollen cock strained in his trousers, mocking his feeble attempts at decorum. Swallowing thickly, he attempted damage control, "I…I didn't mean to interrupt…" he muttered, hands trembling as he adjusted himself discreetly.
You scrambled to cover yourself quickly, pulling your skirt down and clutching your shirt tightly, eyes wide with shame. But the evidence of your own arousal was clear to him; he saw it everywhere: on your reddened face, your rapid breaths, and dilated pupils—proof of the fervour simmering beneath our exterior. Nevertheless, he respected your discomfort. His gaze flickered to his wand sitting idly on your desk before returning to meet your eyes. "We both know," he said softly, "that neither of us can deny what happened between us." In those words hung honest confessions and underlying temptations. His attraction to you wasn't something he could hide anymore, nor did he wish to do so. The game was now out in the open, your desires raw and exposed.
Your reactions were swift yet hesitant. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and blood rushed to your face at this unexpected spectacle. You glanced away from him, then back again, unsure whether to admit your faults or pretend like nothing happened. Embarrassment gnawed at you like the butterflies in your stomach, leaving an undeniable glaze on your cheeks. Finally, swallowing hard, you met his gaze firmly. "I know…" The admission was tentative but truthful. It hung heavily between you, and he nodded twice, recognizing your honesty. For a moment neither of you spoke, time itself seeming suspended in this charged silence. Then, a gravelly whisper escaped him. "Come here…please?" He beckoned you closer like a predator calling prey into its domain.
Your heart skipped several beats, but you found yourself moving towards him slowly yet surely, still clutching your shirt closed. This close proximity heightened the connection, exchanging your boundaries with mutual consent. Your bodies brushed lightly, and you locked your gazes as if challenging air itself to separate you. His eyes held promise and sin, mixed liberally with depravity and wanton desire. The atmosphere crackled with tension, ready to ignite at any spark. Each heartbeat resounded throughout the room, indicating your racing pulse synchronised as one entity now. Your gaze dropped to his bulge unconsciously, realising how horny he was for you too. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out his hand and pulled you flush against him by the waist, claiming territory in both word and deed. Through it all, your breath hitched uncontrollably, mirroring the surge of emotions coursing through you. Would you let your new acquaintance devour your innocence tonight? God, please, yes.
Both of you blushed furiously, the colour burning your faces scarlet. The fact that you'd barely met just an hour ago made your actions seem ridiculous and scandalous at once. Yet, there was a strange sense of familiarity, an intense connection you couldn't deny. Your lips parted slightly, and a quiet "please" escaped involuntarily. Seizing this opportunity, he pulled you closer, tightening his arm around your waist possessively. His muddy eyes gleamed with appreciation as they met your puppy-dog ones; their depths reflecting both excitement and fear, a perfect mirror of what you felt inside. There was no denying the electricity arcing between us, threatening to short-circuit us utterly.
As Sebastian nestled closer, his hips subtly ground against yours suggestively. Your breathing picked up pace, matching his erratic rhythmic pulsations. You trembled when his calloused hand slid subtly between the open gap of your shirt, brushing against tender skin, leaving trails of electric sensations in their wake. Shivers ran riot across mine body, reinforcing the unspoken agreement of irrational behaviour. Stealing a feathery kiss along your jawline, he whispered huskily near your ear, "If you change your mind, just say so. Otherwise…" He paused dramatically, punctuated by another grinding thrust against you. "Let's continue where we left off earlier." His hand moved stealthily underneath cotton, slithering his way to your breast that still rested on top of your lowered bra. With a soft moan trapped by your lips, he fully claimed you with a fierce kiss, sexually and emotionally, making sure you understood that he wanted only you tonight.
He kissed you desperately yet unhurriedly, alternately demanding and patient, as if trying to balance the fine line between urgency and patience. His tongue explored your mouth aggressively, seeking permission through every stroke. You responded instinctively, lips opening wide to welcome his incursion, mirroring his hunger without inhibition.
His free hand started its journey, tracing every curve it could find, stopping nonchalantly at your breast under the thin layer of fabric. Here, he hesitated for a split-second before finally reaching out boldly. With a firm grip, he squeezed your chest ever so gently, how it fit perfectly in his large palm like an offering meant specifically for him. Unhurried yet insatiable, Sebastian slowly plundered your lips. His tongue delved boldly into your mouth, mirroring the urgency palpable between us. As eagerness surged through him, so did caution, remembering it was his first time, and hoping it was yours too. His hand squeezed your tit gently but firmly, compressing it nicely in his palm, eliciting a faint yelp from your lips which were simultaneously bruised by his fervent kisses. An appreciative sound escaped him at the feel of firm flesh beneath his grip, prompting more exploration.
Rolling your pert nipple between his fingers, Sebastian felt it stiffen immediately, reacting positively to his prodding touch. A satisfied hum vibrated against your mouth, signalling approval. With each squeeze and pull, your chest rose and fell faster, breath hitching in response to his touch. He applied light pressure, fondling and kneading with abandon, desperate to savour every curve and contour hidden under layers of clothing. Little pinpricks of pleasure radiated from under his exploration, causing you to whimper quietly against his mouth. His tongue duelled fiercely with yours, battling for dominance amidst sparks of electricity dancing around both of you. In tandem, finger tips tweaked at your nipple aggressively, creating a paradoxical blend of pain and ecstasy within instinctive impulses coursing through every cell in your body.
With a rare skill, the Slytherin’s hand twisted into position for easier access. A shiver raced down your spine when he pinched that tiny bud harshly just enough to make you squirm, begging for more. Gasping into his kiss, you tilted your head backwards, surrendering yourself to his control. His free hand gripped your hair, holding you fast despite his urgency and haste. By now, your pants seemed woefully insufficient as sensations engorged and his weight pressed into you forcefully, a testament to his hunger. At your touch, he revelled in the sensation like an addict craving a fix, grunting low in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat when your delicate hands roamed over the crisp material. Responding instinctively to the stimulation of your touch, he began peeling off his shirt, revealing lean and well-defined muscles previously hinted at by his clothes. His pecs flexed subtly beneath his smooth skin as one hand undid the buttons methodically, an erotic dance choreographed solely for you.
Simultaneously, his other hand tugged firmly at your tie, tearing it loose abruptly from around your neck, making your breath hitch once again by his sudden display of quiet strength. It fell to the ground much like his shame, replaced now only by insatiable wants. His own tie and shirt followed suit soon after as he discarded them artlessly, leaving him bare-chested and exposed. His breath ragged, eyes locked with yours, making sure you appreciated his offering. You stared entranced by his sheer confidence, noting dots of sweat even though he seemed so composed. He grinned wolfishly at your reaction before kissing you again: fierce, needful, borderless.
Meanwhile, your own garments were handled roughly yet carefully; off came the shirt next, uncovering pale skin marred only by the pink blush spread across it. The sight before him sent his brain spiraling wild with possibility and freedom. Your breasts, pushed up by the bra hanging around your midriff, glowing under the dim lights sparked something feral within him, releasing the primal urge to claim what he had only discovered an hour ago. However, the task at hand required immense concentration. Feverish hands searched frantically for the clasps of your bra, struggling slightly due to your elevated heartbeat echoing through your entire body and his own inexperience. Each attempt felt like nails on a chalkboard, both exciting and frustrating.
Finally managing to locate the clasp, the metallic snap echoed loudly before the material fell to the ground. Satisfaction, intermingled with triumph, coloured his features as your breasts sprung free fully. He groaned at the sight, appreciating the bounty before him—full, round, ripe tits bobbing gently. His eyes lingered on the nipples he had just hardened with his ministrations. His hands explored them greedily, seemingly lost in wonderment before pinching harshly once more for good measure and drawing out a shocked gasp from you. Boldly, he bent down to lick one rapidly before sucking it into his mouth, both of your toes curling in your shoes at your subsequent cry of surprise. For the first time in ages, Sebastian knew pure contentment and satisfaction.
Diving headlong into this forbidden fruit, he masked his indecision with zealous enthusiasm and an eager mouth. One hand returned to your waist, while the other grabbed your breast savagely. He squeezed it gently before stretching it further, enjoying the stretch of tight skin under his touch. Low growls escaped him as he buried his face against your flesh, licking at your tender skin with reckless impatience. The dry brush of his curled hair against your collarbone created a unique sensation, different from the silkiness of his tongue. Your cries of pleasant surprise turned into moans of arousal, igniting an inferno inside him.
Once satiated, he switched to your other breast, refusing to play favorites. This time, he grabbed its sister assertively, almost rough, wanting nothing less than dominance over this new territory. He played with it ruthlessly, pinching your nipple between his fingers gently but firmly, drawing out a high-pitched sound as his teeth scraped lightly at your skin. Sebastian's lips enveloped the sensitive peak trapped between his lips and sucked vigorously. This time, instead of gentle kisses and squeezes, hard pulls accompanied each nibbling action.
Your response was instantaneous. You pulled his hair almost affectionately, guiding him closer to your nape where a less sensitive spot resided. A soft yelp left him as his scalp was yanked, stray locks of hair becoming entangled between your fingers. He kept going regardless, appearing more determined than ever, his brown mop tickling you with each movement. The soundtrack grew louder, filled with your breathy gasps, his labored breathing, wet slaps of kisses, and occasional moans mixed harmoniously in lustful cacophony. Slippery saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth onto your breast, marking his ownership plainly.
Captivated by your tits, he couldn't resist attacking them as you moved backward towards your bed. His lips, teeth, and tongue remorselessly roamed over the peaks and valley, his hands exploring each curve and dip without mercy. You could hear him pant heavily, a testament to his throbbing passion. Your movements brought you closer to your destination, the safety net waiting for two entangled bodies to fall upon. He stumbled following you, his lips still suctioned to your chest, desperately trying not to lose contact. As you neared the edge of the mattress, the wooden floorboards creaked underneath you, protesting the invasion of these tangled limbs. Just before falling onto the plush sheets, his head finally lifted, his breathless gaze meeting yours for a split second. However, hunger got the better of him, drawing you back for another taste of heaven
His kiss fractionally landed higher than before, on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, causing a shiver to run down your spine. His tongue flicked out, tasting salt from the small beads of sweat forming there, then slipped inside the sensitive hollow. Another low growl emanated from him, urging him onwards, further than your upper half.
With a low growl, he helped lower you onto the bed, adjusting the position so your head rested comfortably against pillows. Before you knew it, he straddled your spread legs, his knees digging into the fabric beneath you, his leather belt pressing against your skirt. Your gaze locked with his fiery ones, the intensity building with every passing moment. Sweaty palms gripped your thighs, holding you steady while leaning forward purposefully. With a swift move, he hiked up your skirt, exposing the thick flesh bathed in arousal spilling forth from your pores.
A satisfied hum escaped him, eyes feasting on the view below. Muscular calves, soft skin, sexy curves that led to his ultimate goal - a treasure guarded by cotton. Mild apprehension clouded his judgment as he licked his lips, preparing himself mentally and physically for the deed. Thunderous heartbeats echoed throughout the room, adding tension to this vulnerable scene. As if in answer, your fingers slid into his hair, urging him closer, deeper. The tug was subtle but effective, pulling him towards your center. His gaze met yours once more, filled with questions and uncertainty. But despite everything, he obliged eagerly, lowering his face to claim his land, his lips parting to reveal sharp teeth.
Ignorant but eager, Sebastian pressed his tongue against your damp panties, wet heat seeping through the barrier. The unfamiliar textures overwhelmed his senses, but excitement drove him to push aside doubts, replacing them with bold curiosity. In his inexperienced enthusiasm, he didn't shy away from rubbing his tongue flatly over the material, brushing against your outer folds through the thin barrier.
Your thighs, hot against his ears, left trails of sweat, evidence of your need for relief. He knelt below you, his gaze locked with your face, enjoying your reactions, paralyzed by pleasure and frustration equally. His own legs were trembling as a consequence, betraying his own desire that leaked from his hard cock. Yet he remained undeterred, desperate to satisfy and understand the mysteries of the female body. Each tentative press of his tongue sent ripples of pleasure up your spine, increasing your eagerness for more as you bucked against his warm mouth. His actions were raw and sensual; they caused his eyebrows to crease in concentration, adding to the turbulent emotions running rampant during this learning process. Every breath became ragged, punctuated with subtle whimpers and sighs, both encouraging and taunting at the same time.
Eventually, he found the strength to glance down, taking in the sight of your damp underwear, glazed with anticipation. Rash and bold, he lunged forward again, teeth sinking into the waistband gently but firmly, opening the gateway towards the garden of Eden. A sudden gust of air escaped you as his efforts paid off, revealing the prize he sought. Finally feeling accomplished, he closed his eyes briefly, gathering what confidence he could. His nostrils flared as he smelled your drenched cunt, exuding the pheromones of your awakening desire. Feeling emboldened by your earlier reaction, he dipped his tongue hesitantly as his nose pressed against your clit, his curiosity guiding him rather than any prior experience. The taste hit him immediately; salty, sweet, and intoxicating, unlike anything he had encountered. Each swipe of his tongue revealed a new facet of your arousal, hidden preferences that fueled his hunger even further.
His rhythm developed naturally despite his inexperience, each lick and swipe getting bolder. His hot breath caressed your most private parts, sending shivers up and down your spine. His tongue played havoc, flicking faster across your clit, then hovering above before striking again. His hair brushed lightly against your inner thighs, tickling your skin, each movement deliberate yet messy. He swished his tongue, seeking and discovering hidden spots that drew more sighs and musical gasps from you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, arching into his assault while his tensed grip on your thighs only served to restrain you.
Warm spit trickled from his mouth, lubricating his playing field while his breathing synchronised with yours. He revelled in every sound, every tiny moan, absorbing your pleasure intensively. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached one finger between your legs, feeling your warmth and slippery wetness. Your folds clenched as he massaged delicately, matching the pace with his tongue.
His exploration and learning progressed quickly, but his enjoyment seemed equal. His tongue worked furiously, devouring you inch by inch, leaving behind squelching sounds of delight and surprise, all while your body arched up against the onslaught. He could feel your rapid pulse under his fingertips, a testament to his success. His confidence increased, pushing him to go further, to plunge deeper, to explore higher. His tongue weaved a trail of fire that nibbled, sucked, circled, and inched upwards.
Both your bodies writhed, sweat pouring despite the chill in the air. Grunts and moans resonated throughout the room, a beacon screaming for attention, begging for more. Your pleas urged him onward, words barely forming as you encouraged him to continue, continuing your torture with lust. It wasn't long till he looked up again, meeting your half-closed gaze once more. Although already appearing spent, you still looked beautiful, radiant even as you whimpered your pleas. His cheeks were flushed, eyes heavy with heat and lust, his own erection straining against his clothing.
His eyes traced the lower half of your body once more, drawn to the untouched territory below your labia. Your entrance gaped invitingly, offering its uncharted waters to a curious explorer. He saw pink, glistening walls, promising undiscovered pleasures that made his dick twitch violently. Curiosity gnawed at him, igniting a desire he hadn't felt before.
His stare lingered on your entrance, swollen and begging for attention. A newfound resolve set in, and with a final lick, he raised himself slightly, hovering over your invitation. His hesitation was evident, barely containing the ignorance dancing in his eyes. Then with an exhale, he dove in again, his tongue parting your folds before sliding into your hole. You jumped at the sensation, your body convulsing under the pressure and the sight of his bushy brows and burning eyes just above you mound. His tongue explored further, penetrating wider than your two fingers did, feeling the muscles wrap around him. Each withdrawal was met with disappointment, each thrust with anticipation.
The lack of lubrication coming from you due to the friction slowed him temporarily, but not for long. Slowly, methodically, he pushed harder, slipping farther despite the resistance. His pace faltered, replaced by searching motions, exploring every corner, scraping against the rough patches, and grazing over the sensitive walls. His dance led you to gripping his hair, your nails making faint scratching sounds on his scalp as you searched for anchoring points. The combination was too much for him. After one last plunge of his wet muscle, he emerged victoriously, his chin and lips covered in your juices.
Finally giving in to his curiosity, he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand, sticking two thick fingers in your tight, slippery hole. The twist of your body showed his first invasion had affected you deeply. But this time, the added pressure made you gasp and throw your head back, eyes screwed shut tight. His gaze locked onto your face, capturing every contortion as he pushed further, watching your face become a canvas of surprise and ecstasy. His fingers slid deeper, your walls stretching to accommodate him with eagerness. As he thrust slowly, his middle finger ran circles around something hidden deep within, sending sparks across your nerve endings. You moaned, each thrust accentuating the feeling at a snail's pace. His steady rhythm was broken when his thumb made contact, barely grazing your teardrop-shaped pleasure point. With a sharp intake of breath, you clung to his hair tightly, unprepared for the intensity of the feeling.
He hesitated, playing with you like a puppeteer. The promise of satisfaction lingered over your face, but he held back, curious to see how far he could take you. Your body pulsed, bucking beneath him, and finally, you pleaded with his name, those words producing a smirk on his face. With a feral growl, he pinched your bundle of nerves, your thighs shaking violently as you let out the loudest groan yet. A deafening crescendo reverberated around you, filling the cold room with the sound of untamed passion. Cleverly, he reduced the stimulation right as you neared climax, prolonging the agonising wait.
Every pulsing wave signalled your desperation, sensations surging through you like a storm brewing. Finally, he leaned down, sucking gently on your clit between his fingers' thrusts. Your pleasure skyrocketed, almost too much to bear. Sensing your breakdown, his grip on your thighs tightened until, finally, he couldn't hold back anymore. Blindly, he released everything he had learned so far, savouring every moment of your impending explosion.
Sebastian watched your face contort under his ministrations. It was a beautiful sight, and seeing your need fueled his own exploratory drive. He glanced up, looking into your eyes for confirmation. "Like that?" he asked hoarsely, his voice dripping in husky notes of desire, craving to hear your approval. His thrusting fingers gathered speed in response to your nod, your weak submission pushing him to greater lengths. The room echoed with your whimpers, punctuated by the smacking sound of his lips over your core. His gaze stayed fixed on you, taking in the change in flavour of your arousal, tracking your every expression, breathing along with you.
His fingertips curled, digging deeper, stretching you wide despite the discomfort. He wanted to give more, push you closer to the edge. With lightning speed, he switched to a three-finger attack, spreading you wide, your throbbing hole accommodating without complaint. He pulled away for a moment, leaving your clit alone, allowing you to catch your breath. Your heartbeat echoed loudly, and his breathing steadied. Your eyes were filled with gratitude and submission. Suddenly, he dived back in, sucking you forcefully and lapping your folds. You let out a desperate, high-pitched moan. Each thrust of his fingers enhanced the suction, creating friction that had you writhing uncontrollably. An orgasm was building, his fingers working as a lever, your quivering hole squeezing him with each fervid thrust. Your body yielded tantalisingly to his control as he drew out your pleasure like strings of a harp. Every tremble screamed at him to stop, but he wouldn't. His tongue lashed out, torturous waves of pleasure leaving your body.
Bliss washed over you, his relentless pursuit of pleasure consuming you. As your orgasm neared, you panted, gripping his hair harder. Pleas burst forth from you. "Please, Sebastian, just… let me cum!" you begged, your voice teetering on the edge of insanity. The intensity of your desire overwhelmed him. His own erection was stiff, the school uniform a futile barrier against his lust. He paused his tongue, noting the hunger in your eyes. It was intoxicating. Ignoring his raging cock, he resumed sucking your clit, eliciting an ear-splitting scream. That broke the dam, setting off a chain reaction which had you arcing off the bed. Your legs spread wide, your toes curled, and your fingernails dug deep into his scalp, yanking it harshly.
Again, he sucked hard, and you screamed out his name, the combination of pain and pleasure overwhelming. Your climax was his reward. The soft, high-pitched mews escalated, forming a symphony with the slurping noises he made. Shaking uncontrollably, feelings flooded you, waves peaking before crashing heavily, leaving you panting on the bed.
Exhausted, your body relaxed, your voice soft now. "Thank you," you murmured, the relief audible in your tone. He lay there for a minute, stomach pressed to your mattress, catching his own breath. Even though he was thoroughly aroused, he managed a crooked smile. "It's my privilege," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.
As you came down from your high, his satisfied face morphed into one of smug triumph, and he crawled over you. You noticed a line of coarse hairs, leading from the waistband of his trousers towards his navel. You couldn't help but trace them with your index finger, marvelling at the trail of pubic hair. For a brief second, he squirmed under your touch, his chest rising and falling rapidly. But soon enough, he shifted and caught your hand, unable to resist the urge to control the situation once more. It was impressive how he could hold himself up on only one elbow, another sign he was indeed "your local duelling expert."
He flipped your hand, guiding your fingers to his erection. Straining against the fabric, it seemed desperate for your touch, matching the growling beast inside him. He swallowed nervously, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheeks before burying his lips below your ear, his nose poking behind it while he took in your now musky scent.
The moment your fingers made contact with his groin, he couldn't help but let out a deep, guttural groan. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a sound he had never made before. His eyes rolled back, and his body shuddered, reacting to the foreign sensation. It was a strange feeling, having someone else touch him there, especially a girl he had only met a little over an hour ago.
But there was something undeniably exciting about it. It was like a new adventure, a new experience that he was eager to explore. He could feel his cock pulsating under your touch, the blood rushing to it, making it swell even more. He closed his eyes, savouring the moment, letting the pleasure wash over him. He could feel your fingers tracing the outline of his erection, feeling the heat radiating from it. He let out a soft moan, his body arching into your touch. He was completely at your mercy, and he didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he found it incredibly arousing.
He opened his eyes, looking down at you with a mixture of surprise and lust. He had never felt this way before, and he knew that he wanted more. He wanted to explore every inch of your body, to taste every part of you. He wanted to scream your name, just like he had made you scream his. He leaned down, pressing his lips against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He could feel your heart racing, your body trembling beneath him. He knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. And he was ready to give you everything you desired.
His urgency matched yours, and he needed to feel your warmth against him. Hungry hands snapped the buttons of his front flap open, revealing his straining underwear and a visible bulge. What a beast it was. Then, leaning onto his forearms, he brought his forehead against yours. There was a sense of vulnerability in that position, eyes locked, staring deep into each other, though he only did it because the muscles in his arm started straining.
Slowly, he separated his forehead from yours. Instead, he moved his lips closer, just a whisper away from yours. He exhaled deeply, filling your mouth with the warmth of his breath. His nostrils flared, eyebrows furrowed, and the hunger for you grew stronger. This wasn't just a physical attraction; it was something… different. But Sebastian couldn't put a label on it. Not yet. Pushing his boxers down, he revealed all of himself to you, in all its shivering glory. His eyes locked onto yours, waiting for permission. He was yours, willing to follow wherever you led. A soft smile played upon his lips, his heated gaze promising that he would make you forget your own name. All you had to do was say the word.
Your eyes widened as he revealed his girth. It was… imposing. The sheer size of him was shocking, one he had to be proud of. Your eyes couldn't help but trace the thick veins of him from root to tip. The size made you a little nervous, but it wasn't unwelcome. You liked the idea of being full. The thought of the red lingerie in your trunk earlier crossed your mind briefly, and you almost felt guilty for fucking a student on your first day here. You weren't raised like this, but then…
You felt a sudden surge of curiosity; you wanted to know how his dick would feel. A shy smile graced his face at your astonishment, but there was still hesitation in your eyes. Slowly, reaching out, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, coating it with warmth. You stroked it gently, slowly moving your hand up and down, shocked at the contrast of hot pre-cum against his flesh. He buried his face in your neck again, a rumbling sound of pleasure escaping him. With each stroke, every nerve ending was tested, sending shooting stars across his brain. Your nails lightly skimmed his clothed thigh, his cock twitching. The base of his shaft hit your palm with a small tap each stroke, spreading a wave of delight. And then you stopped, making him look up. You slowly looked at him, fear and excitement intertwining in your eyes. "Are you sure about this, Sebastian?" you asked softly, your fingers still clutching his cock. He grinned, a once flustered boy, now confident and enigmatic. "I can be patient, darling. If anything goes wrong, we'll stop, yeah?"
No sooner than the words left his mouth did he capture your lips, his fingers tangling into your hair. The kiss was demanding, possessive, as if trying to convey his need to you. He was a predator finally seizing his prey, showing no mercy. And it was perfect. You nodded, lost in the whirlwind of emotions, as he slowly started replacing your hand with his own. His breathing became erratic, his heart pounding as he guided the massive cockhead to your entrance. A faint hint of nerves danced in his eyes. Still, the eagerness sparkled brighter. As he thrust forward ever so slowly, his eyes rolled back, and his hips bucked involuntarily. You groaned, adjusting to the invasion. With slow deliberation, he pushed further in. Each inch sent ripples of sensation up into him, and despite the severe tightness, you felt heavenly. He could feel you clenching around him, tightening with every push.
He sank deeper, mimicking the speed of his heartbeat. He groaned too, sweat glazing his brow. "Oh God, you feel incredible," he muttered, his breath tangled in your hair. He threw his head forward, a soft growl escaping him, "Tight… so fucking tight…" Your hands gripped his arms, nails digging in, matching the intensity of the moment. But you wanted more. You wanted to see him lose control, to take him into a realm of passion and devotion. You moved his hand on your thigh aside, determined to show him that you were a match to his prowess. Slowly, you held yourself open, giving him room. As he started thrusting faintly, you instinctively squeezed him, testing the limits of your grip. The control he had over the situation shattered, replaced by utter fascination. His thrusts grew fadtert, his groans turning into ragged whispers. "Fuck," he panted, pulling you closer, "You're amazing…" You returned the sentiment, wrapping your legs around his hips, feeling every stroke deep within you. He fucked you like the devil himself fuelled him, and you reveled in each thrust, courage rearing its head.
At first, he was in control of himself. Each thrust deliberate, aiming to please and understand your comfort level. His eyes searched for a reaction, watching as your expressions flickered between pleasure and pain. But soon, he couldn't focus on anything else besides the feel. Each thrust felt like a lightning bolt piercing your core, making you gasp and moan. He watched as your eyelids fluttered, desperate for more. He was an animal now, forgetting everything but the rhythm. His body was rigid, jerking each thrust, leaving you gasping, begging for relief.
"God, please, Sebastian," you cried out, your hands grasping his neck. Your voice rose and fell, mirroring his movements, urging him to keep going. You trapped his gaze, showing him how much you enjoyed it, how much you needed him. His breathing was harsh, each thrust punctuated by the sound of wet slaps. He gained momentum, driving into you with wild abandon. He looked deep into your eyes, questioning if you were okay. But your loud moans answered his concern, emphasized by your tight hug around his neck.
He was losing control, his body shaking with the effort of holding himself up. His arms were unsteady, his balance wavering. He was close, so close, but he didn't want to end it yet. He wanted to make sure you were satisfied, that you were enjoying this as much as he was. "Fuck, I need you to lay on your side," he panted heavily, his voice hoarse from the effort. He didn't want to hurt you, but he was struggling to maintain his balance. Stringent breaths echoed through the room, sidestepping the ethereal melody of desire. Drenched in sweat, he pulled out, causing you to let out a growl of protest. He struggled to take off his remaining clothes, answering your disapproval with a smile. "Trust me," he promised, tugging his pants off, almost tripping over his shoes. Kicking them away, he laid behind you, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He positioned himself once more, spreading your legs wider with a soft nudge. "Don't worry, I won't break you," he murmured with a kiss to your cheek, bracing himself behind you. One leg was draped over his thigh, offering easy access. He admired the sight: your round ass inviting him to enter as he spread your cheeks lightly. He didn't just admire, no, he savoured the view.
And then he plunged in again, hard and fast. You gasped, but the moans resumed, spilling out with soft curses and lip bites. A feral smile spread across his lips as his face towered next to yours, his hands grabbing your ass firmly. He slammed into you, chasing the pleasure he craved, punishing his hips against you. You responded, meeting his thrust with equal vigour, the room filled with passionate yelling and guttural cries. The sensation was overwhelming, an explosion in bedsheets hiding their carnal desires. His eyes never abandoned your lovely form, burying himself deeper within you. Lost in lust, he knew he was close, pulsating against the walls of your tight pussy. He could taste it, feel it; victory was near.
Overwhelmed by hunger, Sebastian lost control. His sanity slipped away, leaving only animalistic desire. Without warning, he delivered a sharp smack to the curve of your ass. A red print bloomed immediately, nothing more than a testament to his desire for you. Your muscles, in response, constricted around his already throbbing length. An orgasmic quiver engulfed you fully, echoing waves of passion throughout your body.
Remembering your earlier preferences, Sebastian reached for your clit with clammy fingers. His digits caressed your most sensitive spot, sending you into a frenzy of ecstasy. He found his rhythm, alternating between rough and tender, matching the pace he'd set with his thrusts. Your moans escalated, reaching a peak he couldn't ignore anymore. He probably had to stop, regroup, but every part of him screamed to continue. His heart threatened to burst. The room echoed with your moans and the rhythm of their thrusts. The wall clock ticked as time dissolved, consumed by raw passion. He paused to catch his breath, locked in your embrace. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, his body flush with excitement. In that moment, he made a decision, one driven purely by instinct. He had to come inside you, marking his territory without guilt.
With renewed force, he drove into you, faster and harsher than ever. Every thrust seemed to send shockwaves, propelling each pulse closer to climax. He played with your clit ferociously, careful not to overdo it and ruin your moment. You screamed into the pillow, begging for mercy and relief, all at the same time. His fingers dug into your hips, thrusting harder, each motion punctuated by an understanding grunt. He could feel it, the end. His balls tightened, the orgasm neared. "Come with me, doll," he whispered into your ear, surrendering to your passion. Together, you climbed towards the edge, helpless in his grasp.
Cumming wasn't gentle, no. Your body convulsed violently, reaching a crescendo of unchecked passion. Your moans grew louder, becoming strangled cries as you approached the edge. His thumb circled your clit, your cries filling the room, ending with a primal scream into the pillow. You released, vibrating furiously, practically milking everything he had to offer. Fleeting moments passed before he joined you, his own release powerful and unrestrained. His orgasm hit like a tidal wave, swallowing both of you whole. Eyes shut tightly, his teeth sank into your shoulder, his hips buckling with force. With a final, powerful thrust, he collapsed against you, surrendering to the aftermath. Satisfaction radiated, pulsating hot streams filling you up. You shook, your insides clamping down, milking every last drop from his exhausted shaft. The sheets beneath you grew wetter, marked by his triumph. Aftershocks rolled through your bodies, leaving trails of exhaustion. As the room slowly settled, two sets of heavy breaths finally became synchronized. You lay tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, bathed in the afterglow of pure, unfiltered passion.
As the room calmed, a sigh of contentment escaped your lips. You turned to face him, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat. Even in post-coital bliss, the intensity of what happened wasn't lost on either of you. A peaceful silence enveloped you, interrupted only by labored breathing. Slowly, reluctantly, Sebastian pulled out, the reality setting in. She was a stranger, someone he barely knew, yet he'd given her something valuable: his virginity. The weight of his actions bore down upon him, his mind racing. Memories of his previous life cascaded, replaced by the newfound intimacy he shared with this fresh face. A strange calm came over him, realizing the importance of what happened. He glanced down at your still-quivering body, a mix of curiosity and comfort washing over him. Was this a mistake? Or was it simply… fate? The new girl he was already infatuated with wasn't a stranger anymore. She was much more than that now. The postcoital awkwardness descended, emotions conflicting and intertwining. Did he rush things? Should he have been more cautious? Or perhaps, did everything happen naturally, leading him here? Staring into your eyes, he saw the same questions reflected back at him. This moment hung heavy with implications, marking the beginning of something unknown. As uncomfortable as it might seem, he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn't change anything.
Both of you were stricken, contemplating the enormity of the act. He traced the outline of your jawline, feeling the warmth radiate off your skin. "Was it worth it?" he asked hesitantly, knowing well enough that words weren't enough. His question was fraught with doubt, uncertainty, curiosity. Yet, there was also a hint of satisfaction, a promise of more to come. Sebastian paused, searching for the right words. "I… don't regret it," he said, tracing circles along your jaw. "Not when you reacted like that." His fingers strayed to your neck, caressing gently as if soothing himself as much as you. A shiver ran through you at his touch, reminding him of the passion you shared moments ago. He swallowed hard, trying to reconcile the vulnerability with the image of you lying next to him. You looked into his eyes, a whisper escaping your lips. "Worth it?" The corner of your mouth lifted into a small smile. "Definitely."
A bright blush spread across his face as he realized the gravity of the situation. He had to get out of here, and fast. He didn't want to get caught, especially after the loud moans that had likely echoed through the dormitory. He quickly got up from the bed, pulling on his clothes with a hurried urgency. Despite the urgency to flee, his gaze lingered on you. There was an undeniable attraction, a connection that extended far beyond physical; it felt almost magnetic. He hesitated, unable to break eye contact. Then, in between buttoning his shirt, he spoke, partly to ease the tension building, partly because he genuinely wanted to know more about you. "Um, how do you feel about Hogsmeade? Fancy grabbing a drink somewhere tomorrow… or maybe a walk? We can just… pretend we didn’t…" Embarrassment painted his features, half-filled with nervous laughter. He knew it was abrupt and somewhat presumptuous, but he couldn't resist the urge to spend more time with you.
You watched him dress, the situation both exhilarating and baffling. There was definitely something intriguing about this guy, and seeing him in a vulnerable state made him seem less untouchable. You managed a weak grin, eyebrows raising quizzically. "Sure, why not?" You replied, matching his nervous chuckle. "I…uh… I won't tell anyone about tonight. If you don't want to…" His face lit up at your agreement, gratitude sparking in his eyes. As you agreed to his impromptu invitation, a wave of relief washed over him. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, savoring the warmth of your skin. He pulled back, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispered, buckling his belt with a newfound sense of purpose. He was going to make sure you enjoyed your time at Hogwarts, starting with a date to Hogsmeade. “After lunch ends?”
Seeing you nod, Sebastian took one last look around the room, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His wand was safely tucked in his pocket, a reminder of the whole reason this transpired. With a final glance at you, he moved towards the door, ready to face the world outside. "Until tomorrow, then," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. The air between you thickened with unsaid words, promises unspoken, feelings unexpressed. Yet, the simple exchange held a heaviness that promised more was on its way. He opened the door, peeking out to ensure the hallway was empty. A swift glance back at you told volumes without uttering a word. The faint glimmer of expectation shone in those coffee-colored eyes, a silent confirmation of a shared understanding. Tiptoeing out, he closed the door softly behind him, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor. Left alone in the room, you smiled, reflecting on the extraordinary turn of events. An ordinary evening had transformed into something truly unforgettable. And though the future was uncertain, you knew you were in for quite a ride.
What had started as an innocent encounter had spiraled into an intimate, unforgettable memory. Emotions swirled in your chest, a whirlpool of excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. He was charming, dangerous, and seemingly just as bewildered as you were. But there was something about him that drew you in, like a moth to a flame. Your gaze dropped to your chest, feeling the heat left by his kiss. Your fingertips traced the spot where his lips had graced, as if trying to etch the sensation onto your memory. As the reality of what had happened set in, a mixture of giddiness and nerves coursed through your veins. He was indeed charming in his own twisted ways, and you couldn't deny the allure. Dangerous? Perhaps, but you found yourself attracted to it. The scent of him still lingered in the room, a faint aroma of leather and musk tickling your nose. With a gentle sigh, you tucked yourself under the blankets, allowing yourself to calm down from the intense sex. Thoughts filled with stolen glances, late-night conversations, and his wicked grin danced in your mind's eye. In the span of hours, he'd completely disrupted your perception of Hogwarts. The mystique surrounding Sebastian Sallow, the local duelling expert, was overwhelming, and yet irresistible.
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lucithegreat666 · 1 day
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I just wanna rant about the way a lot of this fandom interprets Lucifer.
People love to woobify Lucifer and I get it he’s small, he’s cute, you wanna fuck him soooo bad /hj but the way everyone sort of infantilizes him because of the way he’s perceived as an Innocent Socially Awkward Bean is so irritating, (especially when you consider that people constantly do this with autistic coded characters but that’s a whole other rant). And yeah he is socially awkward and, arguably, a Bean.
My problem is with the way people seem to forget this guy is the embodiment of the sin of Pride. Gonna put this below a cut cause it’s long lol. Forgive me that this isn’t the moooost well thought out, I’m busy with college and this is just a rant with thoughts I’ve had over the past TWO MONTHS.
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Lucifer is very clear with Charlie that he thinks sinners are inferior and not worth their time and efforts, based on his thousands of years of dealing with them plus his superiority complex as he still perceives himself as more of an angel than a demon. In episode 5 applies this logic to All sinners evenly, as if not one single one could be worth trying to help and he believes at this point that they’ve earned their damnation.
I will say I don’t think it’s fair to use the fact that he agreed to the exterminations as a reason to back this up, because we don’t know yet what the exact circumstances were that led to that agreement. I think it’s possible the exterminations may have made him more jaded, with viewing them as inferior as a way to cope with feeling responsible for their double-deaths. Or it could be the other way around and he didn’t think the exterminations were a big deal. We don’t know yet whether his feelings of superiority came before or after the exterminations and I’m not ready to make a guess.
When he’s talking to a sinner and is tense, it’s not (just) because he’s socially awkward or wasn’t paying attention. He is tense toward the sinners living in the hotel from the moment he notices them.
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(Picture relevant but also just so funny to look at lol. He’s clearly uncomfortable with Angel but he sort of just looks past him and carries on as if he isn’t there. Rude, Lucifer!)
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(This isn’t just a look of being startled, this is a look of startled disgust. Because he doesn’t want to socialize with Mimzy.)
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(This is also disgust. With a hefty side of condescension since he’s been insulted and so unfairly forced to interact with a sinner directly. I’m being facetious here; Lucifer was aloof and it was rude to ignore everyone but Charlie and his creations)
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(This moment would have been a great opportunity for Lucifer to take interest in what was going on, or at least make some small talk with Sir Pentious since he looks so interested in Lucifer! But he’s in his own world, withdrawn. And that’s fine, that’s just how he is, but he truly has NO interest whatsoever in anyone here except himself and Charlie.)
And if you have any doubt that he sees sinners as basically worthless, I suggest rewatching the scene in episode 5 starting from the balcony to Charlie calling him out in not supporting her. Or you can just read these quotes:
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“I love that you want to see the best in people, but these sinners, you know, they're just the worst.”
“Our ‘people,’ Charlie, are awful! They got gifted free will and look what they did with it! Everything's terrible!”
My favorite, when the hotel is under attack and he is standing around doing nothing while the main cast are defending each other and taking up arms: “You see? This is exactly what I'm talking about Charlie. You build something nice, you invite people in and offer them everything and they just bring violence and chaos to your doorstep. It doesn't matter how well intentioned you are, they're always going to disappoint you.”
And the irony of him saying this kills me. Alastor defends the hotel and stops the attack, but ohp! It’s still excessive violence, still typical Sinner Behavior, ew lol (then he has his own excessively violent rampage in episode 8. Lmao what will the angels say!): “Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”
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To summarize: Lucifer ignores sinners and pretends they don’t exist in his vicinity whenever possible and struggles to hide his discomfort when he has to be nice to them for the sake of his relationship with Charlie. This discomfort stems from him devaluing their lives’ worth over moral purity and his view of himself and his family as the most Good beings in Hell.
(Now I’d just like to hint at what else I’ve been thinking about: He also doesn’t respect heaven completely despite them being in authority over him and morally superior by his standards. This is the source of his Pride, the cause of his Fall.)
I want to be clear, none of this is to say that Lucifer is a BAD person. The whole point of the show is it’s more complicated than that. I just think his thought process is a lot less “wholesome” than people give him credit for.
Don’t even get me started on what Alastor brings out of Lucifer (I’m already started, I will probably make a post on it at some point, I have so many thoughts).
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WIBTA for moving out?
Setting the scene: I live with my partner and their family. We live with their parent and grandparent who has dementia.
Grandparent has to have somebody home with them at all times. Me, my partner, and their parent have convenient work shifts so someone is able to be there.
Because of this, as far as social life goes, we're all missing out. My partner and I hardly go on dates anymore and we're unable to hang out at home without grandparent knocking every 15 minutes or less.
I moved in after having my own apartment because I wanted to be closer to my partner and I was here most of the time anyway. However I am growing more and more unsettled by my now lack of freedom- I have to make sure everyone knows when I make plans just in case they also have something going on; I can't just make impromptu plans like I could at my own place. I can't even make a Hot Pocket at 2 in the morning because I might wake up my partner's parent and anger them.
The house is disgusting & filthy and no matter how much I clean it it gets trashed again. My partner gets frustrated with me over my discomfort with the hygiene issues here- nobody else will clean anything unless there's a guest so nothing gets done.
So because of the filth and lack of freedom as a young adult in their 20s I'm considering moving back into my parent's house. They have a spare room in their basement with a ramp up to the outside so I can come/go as I please and they have a baseline cleanliness that they adhere to.
I understand that this will make my partner and their parent's life harder but I cannot take this anymore. My mental health is suffering badly. Parent also has 4 siblings + their spouses that can help with grandparent and I believe that they have more of a responsibility than I do as their grandchild's partner.
So WIBTA?
What are these acronyms?
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blue--ingenue · 3 days
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Ominis Gaunt headcannons {Pt. 4}
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Author's Note: when i'm trying to think of what to write i like to walk around spots in the game and think of what the characters would think/do. what would their favorite study spots be? do they have a favorite place to curl up with a book? etc. anyway, this came to me while i was walking around the slytherin common room. hope you enjoy :) and i'm starting a taglist for my Ominis headcannons series, so let me know if you'd like to be added :)
he knows most of the house elves by name. the Gaunts are notorious for their abuse of house elves, so most of the kitchen/cleaning staff steered clear of them for the first few weeks of his first year. then one day, when ominis was still getting used to the charm he used to see, he tripped over a one of the elves’ mop buckets. the young Gaunt’s face flushed bright red and he fumbled for his wand before pointing it directly at her. she froze in place and cowered, waiting for whatever punishment he would dole out, but none came
he stuttered out an incantation and flicked his wand in her direction - and the rag she wore dried instantly. confused, but still terrified, she remained frozen. young ominis apologized profusely, using the few spells he knew to clean up the mess. all the while he explained how he was having a bit of trouble maintaining the charm for extended periods
after the bucket was righted and the water had vanished from the floor, he helped her up and asked for her name. Niffy explained that few witches or wizards ever asked, and that she’d never had a student offer to help her, let alone with magic. he continued on his way, but Niffy made sure to tell every elf in the castle to keep a protective eye on young Ominis
not many students know this, but there are plenty of snakes that have made their home within the castle. while Ominis doesn’t enjoy speaking parseltongue, he likes that the snakes bring him gossip from around the school. when Sebastian asks how he seems to know everyone’s secrets and rumors, he replies that he simply listens more than he talks. (while this is true, the snakes’ rumor mill is mostly responsible). behind the walls and within the pipes, they hear everything about everyone (which means Ominis does, too)
this boy has managed to free nearly every house elf tied to the Gaunt name. when he first came to hogwarts his parents assigned one of the house elves to follow him around. he hated feeling coddled, but he knew his father would take his anger out on the house elf if ominis sent him back
there’s a trip to Hogsmeade for all of the first-years a few days after the sorting ceremony. the prefects break them into groups and give them brief tours of all the shops. at the end they’re given a few hours to roam before everyone returns to the castle for dinner. Anne and Sebastian, ever curious and looking for the greatest source of action, follow him from a distance. they know he’s a Gaunt. they’ve heard of his family’s reputation. nearly everyone in their year avoids him like the plague, but the twins don’t find him to be any different from their classmates (aside from the house elf that never leaves his side)
it turns out Ominis had taken out as large of a deposit as he could and had the galleons sent by post. his poor owl couldn’t carry the sack of gold, so he was told he could retrieve the coins at the post office. the twins watch as he nonchalantly shoves the equivalent of a year of Solomon’s earnings into a sack and enters Gladrags
naturally, they follow him. he purchases the warmest cloak in the shop, but doesn’t leave. puzzled, the twins watch as he asks Mr. Hill something and hands the coat back to him. he sizes up the house elf with a quick once-over before waving his wand over the garment. when he’s finished, the coat is ten times smaller than before. they watch in awe as young Ominis presents the clothing to his house elf, along with the sack of galleons
the house elf begins to weep, but Ominis merely kneels so that he can speak to the elf without tower over him. as the pair exit the shop, they hear him tell the elf to “be careful, and live well” before they embrace and the elf apparates away with a loud pop
the next day they introduce themselves, and the trio become inseparable
(Ominis’ father stops sending house elves to Ominis, but only after the young boy has managed to free half of their household staff)
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Taglist: @caramel-hufflepuff, @fanfiction-she-wrote
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kesshavx · 2 days
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Resilience
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Hey everyone!
I wanted to jot down a quick note regarding Nanami and his portrayal in this story. While I've taken inspiration from the character you know and love, I understand that my interpretation may not be entirely accurate to the original series.I've endeavored to capture Nanami's essence and bring him to life in my own writing, but please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction and my own creative interpretation. I apologize if there are any deviations from his established traits or if certain aspects don't align perfectly with your expectations.That being said, I hope you can still enjoy the story and the interactions involving Nanami. I've aimed to create a compelling narrative that showcases his strengths, complexities, and the impact he has on the other characters.Thank you for your understanding and for giving this story a chance. I appreciate your support and hope you find plenty of enjoyment
Pairings➪Nanami kento x female reader
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The mission had been grueling, a battle against a formidable curse. As a second-year special grade sorcerer, you shouldered the weight of immense responsibility. However, despite your power, the curse had managed to evade capture, leaving you injured and consumed by guilt.
Days turned into weeks, and the wound on your waist festered beneath the surface. You carried on, wearing a façade of strength, but inside, the turmoil was relentless. No one suspected the storm raging within you as you navigated through your daily routine, feeling the weight of your perceived failure.
The arrival of the Kyoto students brought a festive atmosphere to Jujutsu High. Amidst the excitement, a grand party was organized to celebrate the goodwill event. Laughter and joy permeated the air, but your heart remained heavy with self-doubt and remorse.
In the midst of the revelry, Mai, caught up in the festivities, accidentally struck your injured area. A surge of agony coursed through your body, and you winced, desperately trying to conceal your distress. Unable to bear the pain any longer, you excused yourself quietly, retreating to a quiet place away from prying eyes.
As you found solace in the solitude, your pain overwhelmed you. The weight of guilt and self-condemnation bore down upon your shoulders, and the walls you had built around your emotions crumbled. Collapsing to the ground, you curled up, tears streaming down your face as your body trembled with anguish.
Unbeknownst to you, Nanami Kento, ever perceptive, had noticed your departure from the festivities. His concern grew with each passing moment, and he followed your trail, determined to find you. And find you he did, your body wracked with sobs, crumpled on the floor.
"Nanami-sensei," you choked out, your voice filled with pain and self-blame, "I'm... I'm a special grade. I let that curse get away. I failed... I failed everyone."
Nanami's gaze hardened, disappointment etched into his features. He knelt beside you, his voice firm yet laced with concern. "You are a special grade, yes, but that doesn't make you invincible. Failure is a part of our journey, and it's how we respond to it that defines us."
His words carried a touch of sternness, emphasizing the gravity of your mistakes. Yet, as you glanced up at him through tear-blurred vision, you noticed a glimmer of compassion in his eyes. It was a silent promise that he wouldn't abandon you in your darkest moments.
"But remember," Nanami continued, his voice softening, "failure doesn't diminish your worth or your potential. It's an opportunity for growth, to learn from your mistakes and become better. You are not alone in this. We're here to support you, to help you rise above your setbacks."
With those words, Nanami gently cradled you in his arms, drawing you close to his chest. The pain in your body still lingered, but his presence offered solace and comfort. He held you tightly, his touch reassuring as he whispered words of encouragement, reminding you that you were not defined by your failures.
In that quiet moment, feeling the warmth of Nanami's embrace, you began to find solace amidst the turmoil. His scolding had ignited a spark of determination within you, but it was his kindness and understanding that mended the shattered pieces of your spirit.
Time seemed to stand still as Nanami held you, supporting you through your pain. He provided a safe haven where vulnerability was embraced, and you felt a glimmer of hope rekindling within your heart. With his unwavering support, you knew you could find the strength to face the challenges ahead.
As you lay cradled in Nanami's arms, the pain gradually ebbed away, replaced by a sense of comfort and acceptance. Your tears subsided, and a newfound resolve took root within you. You knew the road to redemption would not be easy, but with Nanami by your side, you felt ready to face it together.
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alwaysmicado · 1 day
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WIP Wednesday
Thanks for the tag, lovely @kewwrites 🤍
I’m intensively working on You wanted this pt. 8. I’m soooo excited to show it to you guys, but it needs a bit more time before it’s ready. What I can tell you already is that we’ll get to know more about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy! 🍕👀
Sink or swim
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Below are two snippets (out of context):
“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”
You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.
Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.
It’s an uncomfortable truth. There’s nothing in the world you fear more than the prospect of people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.
And last night, that fear came true.
– – –
“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”
“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”
His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.
Okay, world. Hint taken. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out. 
“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”
– – –
NPT: @joelslegalwhre @getitoutofmymind @sweetenerobert @rulexofxnines @my-secret-shame @romanarose @morallyinept @corazondebeskar @sp00kymulderr @schnarfer @magpiepills and everyone who sees this! Tag meeee!
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